


The Chains of Choice

by Luana Araceli (Luana_Araceli)



Series: The Discovery Series [3]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: BDSM, Choice, Dom/sub, Dominance, Dominance/submission, Inner Struggle, M/M, Masochism, Moral Ambiguity, Power Play, Sadism, Submission, breaking people, sadist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 16:51:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 34,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luana_Araceli/pseuds/Luana%20Araceli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Learning Curve. Thrill Pair. FujiRyoSae. Fuji must come to terms with his own inner demons as Sora calls in the favor he owes her, while his relationship with Ryoma and Saeki becomes more passionate and more complex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Fuji hummed quietly as he walked to Kawamura's sushi bar. The team had agreed to meet there this weekend to celebrate their recent victory over Rokkaku. 

Making it into the finals was a huge deal and all of them deserved to be rewarded for their hard work. 

Fuji smirked. He'd already rewarded Ryoma after that match against Kentarou, but perhaps he would reward Ryoma further. 

He caught sight of Ryoma a block before the restaurant. Fuji glanced around to see if any of the others were nearby. Seeing that none of the Seigaku Regulars were around, Fuji caught up quickly and wrapped his arms around his lover's waist. 

"Syu-san," Ryoma said. He twisted in Fuji's grip to level a glare on the tensai. "We're in public." 

"So?" 

"It's the middle of the day," Ryoma said, tone reminiscent of someone chiding an errant child. 

Normally, Fuji wouldn't stand for it. But he was in great spirits today, so he let it slide. "Saa," he said, removing his hands from Ryoma's waist. "Your loss." 

Ryoma bit off a keened whimper as the hands disappeared and pulled his cap over his eyes. "Che." 

Fuji grinned and followed his lover into the sushi bar. Baiting Ryoma was some of the best fun to be had. He took a seat beside the freshman, folded his hands on top of the table, and settled down to wait. 

Five minutes passed before Oishi and Eiji showed up, talking animatedly amongst themselves. The Golden Pair were discussing the merits of acrobatic and accuracy tennis in single play; they'd already proven how well the two worked together in doubles. 

Eiji flopped down at Fuji's side as Oishi took the seat across from him. "Fuuuji, tell Oishi that acrobatic play is better!" 

Fuji smiled. "Saa, Eiji. Counter-tennis is the way to go." 

Eiji groaned and buried his head in his hands. He peeked out with wide eyes at Ryoma. "Oochiiibii." 

Ryoma pulled his cap down further. "Che," he said. "Tennis is tennis." 

Eiji's lips turned down in a pout, his eyes taking on an uncharacteristic gleam. "Well, okay then..." he said, disheartened.

Fuji smothered a laugh. Eiji's dramatics were the reason he'd chosen him as his surface best friend. The man could put on an act when it suited him, but he never did so with malicious intent. 

Oishi, of course, melted at once. "Eiji, you know I think your acrobatic play is the best in Japan." 

Eiji squealed and leaped across the table, barreling Oishi over in the process. "And you have the greatest accuracy! That is why we are the best doubles pair." 

Ryoma snorted. "You're morons, more like." 

"Ochibi! That's so mean!" 

"It was rather ill-spirited," Fuji said. He inched his hand downward until it rested on Ryoma's thigh. He tapped his lover once in warning before he took flesh in hand and pinched as hard as he could, holding the pressure for a full minute before letting up. 

Ryoma choked back a strangled sound and coughed. "Gomen," he said, causing Eiji and Oishi both to raise their eyebrows at him. "Che." 

By that point, the rest of the regulars had gathered around them. Inui and Kaidoh sat together at the adjoining table, while Momo took up residence at one by himself.

Before anyone could order, Momo turned around and waved at Tachibana Ann, who was standing outside the door. 

"Oo, Momo's got a date!" That came from Eiji, who had moved over to Momo and was clapping him on the shoulder with enthusiasm. 

"So you're a man, after all," Fuji said, smirking as his words caused Momo to sputter.

"It's not a date!" Momo protested. "She's here to give us an eyewitness account of the Rikkaidai-Fudomine match." 

Ann stood quietly behind Momo, face growing ashen. "It was horrible," she said. 

A hush fell over the Seigaku team. 

Inui blurred into action, producing a video from nowhere. "I was going to wait until after we ate to show you this," he said.

"What is it?" Momo asked.

Fuji rolled his eyes at the oblivious guy.

"It's the video of the Rikkaidai-Fudomine match," Inui said. "I procured it." 

"From where?" Oishi demanded.

Inui held a finger against his lips. "A gentleman never reveals his sources." He inserted the video into the VCR and flipped the TV on. An image of a girl in a bathing suit running on a beach filled the screen. 

Everyone stared at the image, slack-jawed. "Are you sure this is a tennis video?" Momo asked. "I don't want to watch porn." 

Inui flushed. "It's tennis," he said. "Just wait." A few seconds later, the screen blurred to static before it was replaced by the more expected image of a tennis match. 

Fuji was dying. To see Inui embarrassed in public like that was priceless. He was the most stoic member of the Seigaku team and the suggestion that he watched porn....Fuji swallowed against the desire to burst into laughter and focused on the video at hand.

His glee quickly turned to ire. The first few matches were unprecedented. The talent of Rikkaidai was unmistakable. But the Kirihara-Tachibana made his blood boil. 

"Ah," Horio said. "At least he's being fair." 

Ann's hands tightened. "How," she asked. "Is any of this fair?" 

The freshman had called it the wrong way. After Tachibana injured his ankle, Kirihara focused all of his attacks on the uninjured side. 

"He is putting more pressure on Tachibana because he's aiming at his uninjured side," Inui said, taking it upon himself to explain to the clueless freshmen what was going on. 

"What he's doing," Fuji said, "is forcing Tachibana to put more pressure on his injured leg because every time he returns the ball, he has to step further forward with it. It's cruel." 

Ryoma tensed beside him. "This isn't the way tennis should be played," he murmured. 

"No," Fuji said. "It's not." 

The video ended and an uncomfortable silence fell over the Regulars. No one seemed inclined to break it. 

Fuji's hands tightened in his lap. He gritted his teeth against the desire to go out and find Kirihara and make him pay. But he knew it wouldn't be that simple. Not when he had seen glimpses of himself throughout the match. 

Kirihara's eyes gleamed with the same self-knowledge that Fuji's held. The man wasn't like Rick--Rick had been a coward, running away from his sadism. Kirihara, on the other hand, was similar to Fuji in that he had accepted his own dark desire. Embraced it, even. But to take it to the point of ruining someone physically--Fuji shuddered and forced himself to think rationally.

Was it any different than what he did to people emotionally? The scars Fuji left were less visible, but just as permanent. And from the way Tachibana Ann talked about her brother, it seemed Fudomine's captain would recover. Some of Fuji's victims never did. 

But still. To use tennis as the method. It was uncouth. That was his problem. Fuji didn't care that Kirihara broke people in body the way he did in spirit; he was disgusted that Kirihara's methods were in such poor taste. 

The other problem was that Tachibana was Fuji's friend. He couldn't allow anyone to mess with his friends. But an injury that would heal--that didn't give him the excuse he needed to break Kirihara's spirit. It angered him, but Tachibana would recover. To do more than injure Kirihara in return for an injury came too close to crossing over the moral line he'd drawn himself. 

His cell phone beeped. A text message. Fuji let his attention be drawn by his phone, hoping it would distract him from his dark thoughts. The name on the screen made his blood run cold. Sora. 

He flipped the phone open and chose to view the message. "It's time, Syuusuke. I'm calling in your debt."


	2. Chapter 2

Fuji frowned as he snapped the phone shut. He'd been expecting Sora to call in the debt he owed earlier than this. That she'd waited so long didn't bode well.

Ryoma slid a hand onto his knee, offering silent support. The closer they got, the easier it had become for Ryoma to read the nuances of his expression, even when he was sporting the masking smile.

"Kawamura, a round of wasabi sushi for everyone," Oishi said.

It was so out of the blue that Fuji's smile slipped a little. Ryoma's hand tightened on his thigh. The freshman associated wasabi sushi with punishment, but he couldn't very well tell that to the rest of the team.

"Wasabi sushi might be too much," Fuji said.

Oishi smiled grimly. "Rikkaidai is strong. We'll each eat a piece of wasabi sushi so that we don't get discouraged."

Oh well. He'd tried. Fuji rested his hand on top of Ryoma's, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. It was the closest he'd get to an apology.

Ryoma trembled beside him as the wasabi sushi was put down. He hid it well, pulling his hat down low so no one could see the distress on his face as he took a piece of sushi along with the rest of the team.

Fuji world have to reward him for his stoicism later. That he hadn't complained in spite of his tendency towards battiness was impressive. He dug his nails into the back of Ryoma's hand; a promise of the pain to come.

The celebratory atmosphere had turned to an uneasy one, despite the sushi, and people began to leave. Oishi and Eiji left together, followed by a bickering Momo and Kaidoh. Kawamura disappeared upstairs. Inui pushed his glasses up his nose, muttering something about data collection, and left Fuji and Ryoma alone in the restaurant.

"Who was that text from?" Ryoma asked.

"Not here," Fuji said, voice tight. He didn't want to risk Kawamura coming back downstairs. "Let's go."

"Che." Ryoma didn't protest as they walked out of the restaurant.

Once they were well out of sight of any potential teammates, Fuji took a sharp turn into an alley, pulling Ryoma along with him.

"What the hell-

Fuji silenced him with a look, his eyes burning with an intensity Ryoma hadn't seen since the day Fuji had suspected someone had bugged their clothing. "It was Sora," he said.

Ryoma stared at him, not daring to break the order to be silent. _What?_ he mouthed.

"The text message," Fuji said. "It was from Sora." He didn't miss the way Ryoma opened his mouth to open a question and then snapped it shut. Smart. "She's calling in my debt."

Ryoma stopped, folded his arms, and stared at Fuji, daring him to continue down the alley without further explanation.

Fuji didn't hesitate; where they were going, any subordination from his lover could get them both killed. He took hold of Ryoma's shoulders with a grip so painful it made the freshman's eyes widen, off-footing him before he'd even had a real chance to protest, and slammed the younger man against the brick wall behind him.

He leaned in close, dropping his voice to a whisper. "If you want to continue living, you need to act like I'm the only reason you're alive at all. This is the absolute worst part of town for you to defy me. Understand?"

Ryoma's eyes widened as understanding sunk in. If not for Fuji's weight pinning him against the wall, he would've fallen. _Hai, Fuji-sama,_ he mouthed.

Closing his eyes against the fear that threatened to overwhelm him, Fuji straightened and let Ryoma compose himself. Once he was satisfied that Ryoma understood how powerless they were in this part of town, he led the way.

The alleys of the city were a system in their own right, full of the ruffians society didn't want to deal with. Though tempted to clamp his hand onto Ryoma's arm, that type of closeness would invite the wrong sorts of people. Ryoma could get away with walking so close on Fuji's heels only because Fuji had terrified him to the point he believed that Fuji was his only way out of here alive.

And, Fuji thought grimly, that's too close to truth for comfort. He hadn't entered these alleys since he'd been dating Ryoma, though they'd been a frequent stop for him before. He was an information broker; alleys were the best place to gather information. And that's where they were heading now.

Sora was calling in the favor he owed her. That meant he had to find his way to her. Failing to do so would be indicative of his desire to refuse to repay her. And that wasn't something he was willing to do. If it was only his own life he had to risk, it would be one thing. But there were people close to him, people that could be exploited to make sure he cooperated. He wouldn't let it come to that.

Fuji stopped outside a slate building. The person he needed to talk to would be inside. "Stay close," he said, the order an unnecessary one. He squared his shoulders and walked to the door. Three long knocks, five short, two long. The door opened.

A lanky man with black hair, glasses, squinty eyes, and a rock t-shirt three times his size answered the door. "What'ya want?" he asked.

"Tayumi. He in?"

"Whose asking?" The lanky man, who had seemed relaxed and dull before, became alert and aggressive at the mention of Tayumi.

"A colleague," Fuji answered. "If he's in, tell him Syuusuke needs a word." He turned the full power of his eyes on the man.

As expected, it only made the door lackey blink. People in this part of town were used to dangerous men. "Aight," the man said. "Two minutes." And then he slammed the door in his face.

Fuji's fists clenched at his sides. Being in a situation like this, where he wasn't the one with the most power, was difficult for him. He forced himself to take five deep breaths. He needed to stay calm if he wanted to get any information from Tayumi.

Three minutes passed before the door was opened again. "Aight," the door lackey said. "C'min. Tayumi'll be out in a min."

Fuji stepped past him, Ryoma close on his heels. Despite being on the ground floor, Tayumi's place hadn't changed-it was the picture of a bachelor's loft. His entertainment center filled up half the room, blood red couches lining the back wall.

"G'head and sit down," the lackey said. "Make yourselves comfy."

Fuji gestured to Ryoma to take the lackey up on the offer and then sat down himself. He'd noticed in movies how people always said something trite, like No thanks, I prefer to stand, but those were lines that would get you killed. The more at ease you made yourself appear, the better off you were.

True to the door lackey's prediction, Tayumi came out of the bathroom a minute or so after they'd taken their seats. His hair was wet and the towel he'd used to dry himself off was draped over one of his massive shoulders. At six foot three and 320 lbs, Tayumi was the toughest information broker in the market.

"Yo, Syu," Tayumi said. "What brings you to my part of town?"

Fuji raised an eyebrow. "Business, of course," he said, letting his aristocratic drawl shine through. He had come from money and money was the only thing respected in the underground.

"Of course," Tayumi said. "Who's the kid?"

"My current pet. You know that." Fuji winced. He hoped Ryoma wouldn't be too angry with him later for saying something like that.

"Huh. Well trained?"

Fuji gave him a hard stare.

Tayumi laughed. "Of course," he said. But then his expression hardened. "But you know you can't bring your pets with you unless you can prove they're housebroken."

Fuji didn't blink; he knew that. But he saw the way Ryoma's shoulders tensed. _Sorry, Ryu-chan,_ he thought. _But you're the one who keeps insisting I be honest with you._ "I'm aware of our rules, Umi."

The door lackey tensed, waiting for Tayumi's reaction. The big man just laughed. "It's been a long time since someone's had the audacity to call me Umi to my face, Syu."

"And a long time since someone has called me Syu to mine," Fuji said, though it wasn't strictly true. The only people who could get away with that nickname were his lovers.

"Fair enough. This pet of yours, what is he trained for?"

"To endure pain," Fuji said. There was no other feasible answer he could give. While the situation they might end up in might not be pleasant, it was better than answering the question in any other way. "You know I have needs."

"Of course," Tayumi said. "And he's obedient?"

"To the letter."

"I'd like to see a demonstration."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Hmm. That's a tough call. I'd love to see something truly damaging, of course, but I doubt you want your pet ruined beyond repair."

Fuji gritted his teeth as he forced a smile. "Of course not," he said. "It has taken me far too long to train him to this point. Losing him now would be a major setback. Besides, I'm looking for Sora. I figured you'd know where she was."

Tayumi raised an eyebrow. "I heard you owed her a favor. She's staying at Purple Marz."

"The brothel?"

"Yeah. I heard she had some business there with a former associate."

"Another assassin?"

"Mm-hmm. So, give me a demonstration of your pet's obedience and pain endurance. Then you can be about your business."

"Hai, hai," Fuji said. He slid his belt free and turned to Ryoma. "Take off your shirt and brace yourself against the wall." He leaned in close. "This is the only way I can let you into this part of my life," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

Fuji straightened up before Tayumi could get suspicious, watching as Ryoma did as he'd been instructed without comment. In fact, Ryoma was acting the part of the perfect submissive, the way he did only when he believed Fuji to be serious.

"This demonstration is for your benefit, Tayumi," Fuji said. "How many lashes would you like to see?"

"How long does it take to make him scream?"

Fuji raised an eyebrow. "I've only ever gone to thirty. It seemed adequate."

"So double that."

Fuji swallowed. He was playing with fire. "Thirty-five," he said. "I need him to be able to walk."

"Fifty-five," Tayumi said.

"Thirty-five," Fuji insisted again.

Tayumi's eyes narrowed and his tone grew hard. "Forty-five."

Fuji knew when he was beaten. Trying to lower it any further would cost one of them their lives. "Forty-five it is," he said. He unfurled the belt and snapped it through the air a few times, testing it.

"And if he moves his hands off the wall," Tayumi said, "I will view him as a risk to my safety."

"Hai, Tayumi-san. He won't move." Fuji knew that for a fact. Ryoma wouldn't ever disappoint him like that. That knowledge firmly in hand, Fuji laid into his lover with his full strength. He couldn't risk Tayumi thinking he'd been cheated out of a show.

And Ryoma screamed at thirty-five. Fuji knew that was where his limit lay, but he couldn't stop. Not if he didn't want Ryoma to die. So he ignored the guilt he felt at hurting his lover and let his darker side take over for the last ten strikes. The choice had been taken out of his hands.

Once it was over, Fuji refastened his belt. "Get dressed," he said, not watching to see if Ryoma was obeying him. After that forced demonstration, Ryoma wouldn't be disobedient for a good while.

"Good show," Tayumi said. "You always did have good taste."

Fuji dipped his head in acknowledgment. "The Purple Marz, right?" he asked.

"Mm hmm," Tayumi said. "You sure know how to pick your debts, though, Syu. Sora isn't going to let you off easy."

"Tell me something, Umi."

"More than what I have already?"

Fuji smiled indulgently. "Why is everyone so afraid of Sora? I'm not."

"You haven't heard, have you?" Tayumi asked, face growing ashen. "She took out a twenty man raid a month ago."

"Ah," Fuji said. "That's not any more than usual. So what's to fear?"

"Your lack of fear regarding one of the deadliest assassins in our world is what makes you so terrifying, Syu."

"Yet you're not scared of me, Umi," Fuji said.

"I am when you're not within crushing distance," Tayumi said. "Your reputation precedes you."

"Hmm. And you've given me no reason for retaliation. Smart man."

"I am an information broker, Syu. Just like you, I know where the lines lay that I can't cross."

Fuji and Tayumi shared a genuine smile. "Aa," Fuji said. "Thanks for the tip. I'll be sure to tell Sora how helpful you were."

"Appreciate it," Tayumi said. "Being useful is the only way us brokers stay alive."

Fuji acknowledge the truth of that without speaking. He could have chosen the more powerful path; he could've become an interrogator. But the monster inside would consume him if he went that route. And with demonstrations like the one he'd put on today, even being an information broker didn't protect him from his own mind.

Fuji and Ryoma left Tayumi's with the information they needed. Fuji retraced their steps until they were at the mouth of the first alley they'd entered. "I'm sorry, Ryu-chan," he said. "I didn't want to drag you into that, but I knew you'd follow me if I insisted you go home."

"Che," Ryoma said. "All you did was use a belt. Besides, you didn't go past my limits."

Fuji startled. "But you screamed."

"Aa," Ryoma said. "Because that man wouldn't have been satisfied with less. It was fake."

Fuji laughed. "You faked it well," he said. "I thought I was really hurting you." His face crumpled. "I thought I was..."

Ryoma snaked an arm around his waist. "It's okay, Syuusuke. I love you. I don't understand the craziness of this part of your life yet, but I want to. And I can take it, even if it means taking whippings like that every day of the week."

Fuji smiled, blinking back tears. "Thanks, Ryu-chan. Let's go home." _And then,_ he thought grimly, _I'll need to find a way to talk to Sora without dragging Ryoma along._ Tayumi may have let them off with a simple whipping, but Sora? She was a different matter entirely. If he brought someone along to her place, she'd demand he pay for it in blood.


	3. Chapter Three

“Where have you been?” Saeki asked, pushing himself off the wall of Fuji's house that he'd been leaning against.

Fuji nearly jumped out of his skin. With everything that had been going on, he'd forgotten that he'd invited Saeki over. “Busy,” he said, unlocking the door to his house. 

“Doing what?” Saeki asked, following Fuji and Ryoma inside. “I thought you said you'd be back at three.” 

“Aa,” Fuji said. “I had some unexpected business to take care of.” He wasn't in the mood for an interrogation, but Saeki deserved answers. Especially if he'd been waiting outside for two hours. 

Saeki raised an eyebrow. “Underground business?” 

“Aa.” 

Ryoma digested the exchange in silence, his lips tightening into a frown. “Saeki knows?” 

Fuji sighed. “It's not a big deal, Ryoma. We grew up together.” He really couldn't handle the bratty behavior right now. He wanted to take a hot shower and relax. Going into that part of town took everything he had. 

“It is a big deal,” Ryoma said. His eyes narrowed as he planted his hands on his hips. “I'm your lover, Syuusuke. And I'm still in the dark, pretty much, when it comes to your underground dealings. And don't even try to bring up today to invalidate that. You know I'm right.” 

“Hai,” Fuji said. “Saeki knows because we grew up together. I didn't know how dangerous it was to share information when I was a child. I understand the dangers now. That means I want to protect you from them.” What would have come across at any other time in a tone that suggested arguing would lead to punishment came out instead in a tone that bespoke of how tired he was. Playing power games with people he couldn't win against was discouraging at best. 

“That-

Saeki clamped a hand over Ryoma's mouth. “Leave it alone, Ryoma.” He nodded towards Fuji. “Can't you tell he's exhausted?”

Ryoma scowled, but did what he was told and took in Fuji's appearance. His shoulders slumped when he realized that Saeki was right. He reached up and gently dislodged Saeki's hand. “Gomen nasai,” Ryoma murmured. 

Fuji sighed. “It's an important concern, Ryoma. We'll discuss it later. Right now, I need to take a shower and figure out what I'm going to do about Sora.” 

Saeki's eyes widened. “Sora?” he asked, unable to mask his surprise. 

“Aa. She called in my debt,” Fuji said. “I had to take Ryoma to Tayumi's.” 

Saeki frowned. “No wonder you look like hell. What did he make you do?” 

“I had to take forty-five lashes with Syuusuke's belt,” Ryoma said, tone smug. “I'd say it was a good day.” 

“You had to beat him in front of Tayumi?” Saeki asked, ignoring Ryoma's tone. It seemed like their younger lover didn't really understand the mental agony Syuusuke was suffering because of that. 

“Aa,” Fuji said. “If I could have sent Ryoma to you, I would have. But he's too curious for his own good; he would have followed me anyway.” 

“That's a habit that needs to be broken if we're going to be dealing with Sora for any length of time,” Saeki said. “She's not known for her kindness.” 

“No, she's not.” 

“Che,” Ryoma said, plopping down on the couch. “You guys are over-reacting.” 

Fuji's shoulders tensed. “Deal with this, Saeki,” he said, tone hard. “I'm going to take a shower. When I get back, I expect Ryoma to understand the danger that we are all in.” 

“Hai, Syuusuke-san,” Saeki said. It had been awhile since he'd seen Syuusuke reach the limits of his patience. The tensai disappeared upstairs, leaving Saeki to deal with Ryoma. “Did you enjoy it?” he asked. 

“Enjoy what?” Ryoma asked, wary. He hadn't missed Fuji's short temper; he knew he needed to tread carefully, but he was distraught. Why hadn't his lover trusted him with the same information that Saeki already knew? That was only part of it, though. He hadn't been left alone for Saeki to discipline yet, but he knew that when Fuji had told Saeki to “deal with it,” some form of discipline would be involved. 

“Did you like that Syu was forced into a situation where he had no choice but to beat you? That his power was stripped away from him?” 

“What?” Ryoma asked, dumbfounded. “He's hurt me in front of people before.” Why the hell was Saeki making a big deal out of this? 

“Yeah,” Saeki said, “but he choose that. He didn't have a choice here.” 

“Sure he did,” Ryoma said. “He could hurt me or...” he trailed off, suddenly feeling guilty. 

“Or what?” Saeki prompted. He wasn't going to let Ryoma run away from the truth, no matter how ugly .   
Ryoma shook his head, silent, as tears started to form in his eyes.

Saeki planted himself in front of Ryoma, leaning close to his lover. “Or what?” he asked, tone hard. 

Ryoma's shoulders shook. But he replied, because he didn't want to risk the ire he saw building in Saeki's eyes. “Or he could have let me die,” he said, the words coming out a whisper. 

“What kind of choice is that?” Saeki asked. “To have to hurt your lover for someone else or let them die?” 

“It isn't one,” Ryoma said, the answer coming to his tongue more easily this time. Saeki held a dominant presence unlike Fuji's; it made him want to obey quickly, because the man was a much firmer disciplinarian than Fuji. He'd proven that with the shock collar. Ryoma fingered his neck, suddenly missing the presence of the collar. When he was wearing that, at least, he understood where the lines lay that he shouldn't cross. 

“That's right,” Saeki said. “There's no choice. And Syuusuke is an emotional mess right now because he was forced to hurt you. And he enjoyed it. Because his sadism runs deeper than it should, in some respects. You know that. So what made you think it was a good idea to bring up another complex emotional problem when he's still wrapping his head around the fact that he liked hurting you when he was forced to?” 

Ryoma shrank back on the couch. He hadn't given it any thought at all. He'd seen that Fuji was torn up after they'd gotten out of the alleys, but he'd thought that the man would bounce back. He was Fuji—resilient and unbreakable. “But-”

“No,” Saeki said, laying a finger on Ryoma's lips. “Don't speak. I know you're upset because I know more about the underground than you do. But that's a fact of life; we spent the first ten years of our life being best friends. He isn't trying to hide it from you; he's trying to protect you from the dangers.” 

“I can handle it,” Ryoma said, but his voice shook. 

“I don't know if you can,” Saeki said. “Sora is an assassin. That means she kills people, Ryoma. There's no joke there. And the only way Syuusuke can keep us safe is to give up his power for her use. He has to let himself be used. Consider the implications of that.” 

“I don't want to,” Ryoma whispered. “It makes me sick to think about it.” 

“I know. It isn't a position either one of us want Syuusuke to be in. But he put himself in this position to protect you, Ryoma. Think about that before you start accusing him of keeping you in the dark for selfish reasons.” 

“Gomen nasai,” Ryoma said. “I wasn't thinking.” 

“No,” Saeki agreed, “you weren't.”

Ryoma took the silent rebuke for what it was and slid off the couch into a kneel at Saeki's feet. “What would you have me do, Saeki-san?” he asked, barely managing to choke out the words in a whisper. 

“I'm not going to punish you for your feelings” Saeki said, taking the seat that Ryoma had abdicated. “I was asked to make you aware of the situation. I think that has been accomplished.” 

Fuji came back downstairs and smiled at the sight that greeted him. Ryoma was curled at Saeki's feet while Saeki played idly with the freshman's hair. And if the smile didn't quite reach his eyes, the others didn't call him on it.


	4. Chapter Four

The three of them spent the rest of the afternoon avoiding further discussion of Sora and the underground. Eleven rolled around and an unspoken agreement rose between them that Ryoma and Saeki would be spending the night.

Fuji let his lovers get comfortable, sandwiching Ryoma between him and Saeki. Each of them shared a chaste kiss before Fuji flipped off the lamp on his bedside table. He laid in the dark, muscles tense, as he waited for the others to fall asleep. He counted seconds and listened to the sound of their breathing rise and fall.

As he waited, he stared at his digital clock. Twenty minutes passed, then thirty. It wasn't until an hour had passed that he heard Ryoma's breathing even out. Saeki was still awake, but he could handle that. Saeki knew better than to follow him to where he needed to go.

Fuji inched out of the covers, careful not to wake Ryoma. While the freshman tended towards deep sleep, Fuji would still wake him if he jostled him on his way out of bed. Although it was dark, he felt Saeki's eyes on his back as he got dressed in the dark. He'd laid out the clothes he needed to visit Sora while Saeki had been lecturing Ryoma. If he had to meet an assassin on her own turf, he would make sure he the part.

He edged the door open and glanced back at Saeki, whose face was illuminated by the soft light of the hallway. Making a quick decision, Fuji nodded his head toward the hall. There was time for a quick conversation before he left. Plus, it was a good policy to make sure there was someone who knew where he was going.

Saeki frowned at him, but carefully dislodged himself from Ryoma's side. The freshman grumbled and Saeki froze. Fuji's heart caught in his chest. A minute passed without Ryoma making any more noise and he breathed in silent relief as Saeki managed to leave the bed.

The two of them tiptoed downstairs before they dared to speak. Fuji didn't want to risk Ryoma waking up. Having the freshman attempt to follow him to Purple Marz...he shuddered. Just imagining the trouble that would cause could give him nightmares.

"You going to Sora's?" Saeki asked, keeping his tone at a whisper.

"Aa," Fuji said. He motioned to his clothes. "Think these will work?"

Saeki raised an eyebrow. "You look like you rolled out of bed into the high rollers club. Am I right in thinking that's a Fioraventi suit?"

"Aa. Do you think it's too much?" Fuji frowned down at the black suit. It had been made on site, like most Fioraventi Bespoke suits, but maybe he had overdressed.

"No," Saeki said. "You have a reputation in the underground. If you don't look respectable when you go to meet someone like Sora, whose reputation is stronger than yours, she may take it as an insult. But you already know all this. Nervous?"

Fuji nodded once. That was all the concession he was willing to give. "Showing Sora respect is less important than intimidating everyone else."

"Oh," Saeki said, stunned by the implication of Fuji dressing in order to intimidate people. Normally, his personality was enough.

"I'll try to be back before morning. If I'm not, don't tell Ryoma where I went. I don't want to upset him," Fuji said. He didn't think Ryoma would be able to handle that he hadn't been woken up and made privy to this conversation.

Saeki frowned. "If you keep him in the dark like this, you might lose him."

Fuji smiled tolerantly. Although Saeki made a good point, it wasn't his place to decide what Fuji's best course of action was in regards to Ryoma. "Keep your thoughts to yourself, Sae-kun. I'm not so far gone in my nervousness that I can't discipline you for overstepping your bounds."

Saeki's shoulders tensed and he dropped his eyes. "Hai, Syuusuke-san. Gomen."

Fuji let a full minute pass before he spoke, enjoying the way Saeki squirmed as he waited for a response. "Don't do it again," he said. "And keep my midnight rendezvous with Sora to yourself."

"Hai."

Fuji pulled Saeki into a hug. Saeki stood there, stunned, for a few seconds before he realized what was happening and hugged Fuji back. "I will be back my morning, Sae. If I'm not, call my father."

"Hai. And Ryoma?" Saeki asked, his gaze averted and focused on the floor. He was taking Fuji's admonishment to heart.

Fuji frowned. "If I'm not back by noon tomorrow, you can tell him then." His eyes narrowed. "But only then."

"Hai." Saeki kept his eyes focused firmly on the ground. Challenging Fuji here would do nothing.

"Go back to bed, Saeki. There's nothing you can do from here. I have to face Sora on my own." _Let's just hope she doesn't ask me to do something too insane._


	5. Chapter 5

Fuji arrived at the Purple Marz at 11:45, the busiest time of night for the seedy brothels that Sora preferred to make her base of operations.

He had to admit it was a smart business move. Only people who moved in the highest circles in the underground had any idea where she was. No one else would think to look for an infamous female assassin in the middle of a brothel.

But it was also going to be the hardest one to get into. Legality was an issue. There was three years left before he'd reach 20, the age of majority in Japan. Fuji grimaced. As long as the grunts Sora had hired to guard this location were ones he was familiar with, there wouldn't be a problem.

But that was an issue itself, because Sora never used the same rotation of people when she moved bases. It was the best way to keep herself safe. She never gave her grunts any reason to distrust her, and so never gave them a reason to betray her.

There were four men in front of Fuji. Two of them were middle-aged and disgustingly overweight. They must pay well, Fuji decided. There was no other reason the girls in the brothel would agree to sleep with those men.

One of the four was young, probably barely past his own majority. And he was nervous. Fuji could tell by the way he kept rubbing his palms on his pants, his fingers clutching desperately at the fabric. A virgin, he thought. Or he's worried about sullying himself by violating his own moral code. Probably the former.

The last of the four looked to be about 28. He was well dressed. A doctor? Lawyer? Fuji wondered. In any case, the man was coming to a brothel because he worked long hours. Fuji doubted there was anyone at work the man found interesting, so the brothel was where he found all his satisfaction.

Fuji smiled. He wasn't desperate like the men in front of him. And he hadn't come to the brothel for sex. That had to be a rare occurrence. It put him in a good mood, seeing that there were people who were much worse off than him. After all, he had two lovers. There was no way he would go to bed lacking satisfaction.

The nervous man was turned away at the door. From what Fuji overheard, it was because he'd forgotten to bring his id. The man had blushed crimson and hurried off. Huh. Maybe he hadn't been past his majority. The other three were admitted entrance without trouble.

Fuji smiled as he approached the bouncer. The man occupying the position had shoulders twice as broad as Fuji's and stood a foot and a half taller. He raised an eyebrow at Fuji's approach. "Let me see your idea, kid," he said.

"Saa," Fuji said, lifting empty hands to the bouncer. "I'm afraid I'm not 20 yet. But I'm not here for the services." Some of the men in line behind him snorted. He swore he heard one of them yell, "Go home, kid!" but he tuned it out.

The bouncer rolled his eyes and jerked his thumb towards the empty side of the street. "Get lost, kid," he said.

"I'm afraid you misunderstand me," Fuji said, letting authority fall into his voice for the first time. The bouncer was a grunt. Being stopped here would be worse than pathetic. "I'm here to speak with Hayashi. We have an appointment."

The bouncer snorted. "Sure. That's what they all say. Get lost."

"No," Fuji said. "I'm not moving from this spot until you let Hayashi know that Fuji Syuusuke is here to see her."

"Sorry, kid. None of our women take on appointments with minors." The bouncer narrowed his eyes. "Now get lost."

Fuji folded his arms over his chest and planted his feet, snapping his eyes open. "You have one minute to tell Hayashi that the Bleeder is here to see her. It's undignified, but I'll resort to violence if I have to."

The bouncer gave him an incredulous look before he laughed and waved it off. "You'll just get hurt, kid. Go home."

Fuji gritted his teeth. He hated it when people didn't take him seriously. "Thirty seconds," he said, ignoring the jab.

"I'm not telling her, kid. You're wasting your time." He leaned around Fuji. "You there, got your idea?"

The man behind Fuji flushed as he fumbled for his wallet. "Yes," he said. "Here it is." He reached past Fuji to show it to the bouncer.

Fuji was fed up. He grabbed the wrist of the man who had reached around him and snapped it in one fluid motion, ignoring the man's scream as he realized what had happened. The man was in so much pain that he crumpled to the ground, blocking the space behind Fuji. "I believe," he said, eyes focused on the bouncer, "that I warned you."

"You're a bastard, but it's not my business what you do to people outside this club," the bouncer said. "I'm only paid to keep the people inside safe. He wasn't inside."

Fuji ground his teeth together, frustrated. He turned to the people behind him. "Anyone who tries to get into this place before me will suffer his fate." He nodded at the man crumpled at his feet. Then he turned back to the bouncer. "I have no problem breaking the wrist of every single man who tries to gain entry here until you tell Hayashi that I'm here to see her."

The bouncer scowled. "I can't leave my post," he said. He raised his voice. "And I can't protect customers who are outside the establishment from lunatics."

Fuji had to admit that he was slightly impressed. The bouncer wasn't backing down and he wasn't apologizing to potential customers. Purple Marz was an underground base. It wasn't wise to seek services at such a place and the bouncer had no qualms making that clear. "And I'm not leaving until you find a way to tell Hayashi that I'm here."

The bouncer didn't seem to hear him, though, as he turned his body to whisper to someone inside. His face was obscured by the door, though, so Fuji couldn't make out a single syllable of what was being said.

The bouncer straightened up, finished with his conversation. Right when he did, the door opened. And Fuji found himself staring into the face of Cayeni.

Cayeni recognized him immediately and threw the door open. "Syuusuke! I haven't seen you in ages!" He closed the door behind him.

Fuji nodded. The last time he'd seen Cayeni had been back in America. "Why aren't you stateside?" He didn't like the man, but he was good at his job. Fuji just found him too enthusiastic.

"Hayashi insisted she needed my help here." Cayeni took in the scene outside the door. "Your handiwork?" he asked, nodding at the man crumpled on the ground. He had passed out from the pain. The rest of the men had fled.

"Aa," Fuji said. "Your bouncer won't let me in."

The bouncer shifted, uncomfortable. "He isn't old enough," he said.

"No, he's not," Cayeni agreed. "But he is Fuji Syuusuke, Iwao. He doesn't follow the same rules."

Iwao shrugged his shoulders. "He looks like a kid to me."

"He is a kid," Cayeni said. "But he's dangerous. Don't make him wait next time, hmm?"

"Hai," Iwao said. He took two steps forward and sank into a formal kneel. "Gomen nasai, Fuji-sama."

The icy rage that had built in Fuji's chest began to dwindle. Iwao wasn't an idiot, he had lacked information. "Aa," Fuji said, then switched his attention to Cayeni. "I assume Sora is expecting me?"

Cayeni winced. "She is."

The door swung open again, revealing Sora in a green mid-thigh, v-cut satin dress. "Syu-kun, I've expected you. But to use my name like that is so unbecoming. I have half a mind to turn you out."

Fuji gritted his teeth and bowed from the waist. There wasn't a single person he would kneel to. "Gomen nasai, Hayashi-san," he said. "It has been a frustrating evening."

"Ok then," Sora said. "Let's go upstairs and begin our negotiations, shall we Syu?"

Fuji winced. He shouldn't have used her given name. She was worse than him when it came to holding a grudge. "As you wish, Hayashi-san," he said. "I do hope you'll forgive me for the mess I've made."

Sora glanced at the unconscious man and wrinkled her nose. "Next time you need to frighten my help, feel free to be violent with them. That poor customer didn't deserve your wrath."

"He did," Fuji said. "He tried to cut in line."

Sora laughed. "You haven't changed a bit. So tell me, how was your visit with Tayumi? He is still your point of contact, isn't it?"

"Saa, now that would be telling." Fuji traded light banter with her all the way upstairs, conscious of the bouncer's incredulous stare. Though amused that he'd shocked the man with his familiarity with Hayashi, he knew he was in for a long night. Negotiations were never pleasant.


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Once seated in Sora's private rooms, Fuji waited for the assassin to speak. She studied him for a few minutes before she leaned forward, her eyes flashing with intensity.

"I need your expertise to eliminate three targets," Sora said.

"I'm not a killer," Fuji said. "If that's what you wanted to discuss with me, I'll leave." He pushed his chair out.

Sora scowled at him and clasped a wrist around his hand. He stared at her until she removed it. "I'm not asking you to kill anyone, Syu. I need you to put them out of commission by using your own skill set. I'm not asking you to get involved in anything heavy. I know you have people to take care of."

Fuji's smile tightened. "Those people are more important to me than any debt between us."

Sora frowned at him, puzzled for a moment. Then realization flared into life in her eyes. "Oh! No, Syu. I'd never threaten anyone close to you to ensure your cooperation. Hatred doesn't make good business relations."

"No it doesn't. Who are these people?" Fuji asked.

"There's a couple who run an army surplus store, but they sell weapons on the black market. Only thing is, they don't want to sell to me. They say I'm too risky a client."

"I can't blame them," Fuji said. "You've been taking out a few twenty man teams lately, from what I've heard."

Sora sighed. "Yeah, but they have the best weapons this side of town. I'm getting tired of spending half my days carting weapons from one side of town to the other. So I want you to fix it."

Fuji digested the information in silence. "You said three people. Who's the third?"

Sora shrugged. "A no one, really. It's a personal grudge, and not a business issue. Hell, you may even know him since he runs the tennis circuit."

Fuji raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to get to the point.

"His name is Kirihara Akaya."

"Yeah, I've heard of him. What did he do to you?"

Sora grimaced. "He didn't do anything to me, specifically. But he injured my cousin in a practice match three months back. The doctors are saying he may never walk again."

Fuji swallowed back the rage that threatened to consume him. "He crippled your cousin through a tennis match?" he asked, voice calm.

"Yeah," Sora said. "It's despicable. If I could kill him with my bare hands, I would. And, before you ask, he's too visible a target. His family is wealthy and he stands to inherit a lot of money once he reaches his majority. With the heat I'm facing already, I can't afford to kill him."

Fuji's shoulders tensed slightly. He hated hearing how easily Sora talked about killing people. Although he knew she was an assassin, he'd always hoped that she would see the value of life as they got older. So far, all that had happened was that life had become less and less valuable to her. That she killed in tens and twenties was testament to that.

"Ok," Fuji said. "I'll break one person for you."

"You're the one who owes me a debt," Sora said. "You'll break who I tell you."

Fuji laughed. "Sora, as much as I respect you, you know as well as I do that you can only ask me to break one person because I only asked you to protect one. If you really want to go down this route, I won't hesitate in letting people know that you go back on your word."

Sora glared at him. "I could kill you where you sit."

Fuji shrugged. "You're the one who needs my services. If you want to kill me for refusing to be rolled so easily by your reputation, go ahead. But really, has the infamy gotten to you to the point that you feel it necessary to threaten me?"

Sora chuckled. "You're a refreshing change from the people stumbling over themselves to keep from upsetting me. Alright. Fine. One person. It won't do me any good if you only target one of the two members of the arms-dealing couple, so let's go with Kirihara Akaya."

"Consider it done," Fuji said. "Time frame?"

"Before the end of the school year," Sora said. "I'll give you that much time, since you did me the courtesy of making our arrangement concerning Echizen open-ended."

Fuji dipped his head in acknowledgment. "Now," he said. "How would you like me to pay for visiting your establishment?"

Sora smiled. "Oh, I think I have the perfect payment method for you." She stood and made her way to the door. She leaned out it and shouted, "Iwao! Get up here now! Cayeni, take over."

Fuji heard the heavy footsteps of a man running up the steps with a great deal of urgency.

"Iwao," Sora said, "come in. Take a seat."

Iwao walked in and took a seat across from Fuji, eyeing the tensai cautiously.

Sora pulled out a trunk from behind a counter and opened it to reveal several different whips. She pushed it towards Iwao. "Pick one," she said.

Iwao's eyes flicked nervously between the two as he did as ordered and pulled out an eight inch single-tailed whip. "How's this, Hayashi-sama?"

Sora smiled. "That will work just fine." She crooked a finger at Fuji.

Fuji stood and rolled his shoulders. " Door frame?" he asked, shedding the top half of his suit.

"Good as place as any," Sora said. She turned to Iwao. "Have you ever whipped a man?"

"No, Hayashi-sama."

"Then this should be fun for you. I sign my deals in blood, but this man irritated you at the door. You can whip him for that now and there will be no repercussion."

"Not even from him, Hayashi-sama?" Iwao asked.

"Fuji, will you do anything to this man for whipping you on my command?" Sora asked.

Fuji grit his teeth. "No," he said. "I won't."

"See?" Sora asked. "So go ahead."

Iwao shook his head. "I can't," he said. "He did nothing to me."

"Okay," Sora said. "Then take his place."

"What?" Iwao asked.

"If you can't whip him for me, then take the whipping for him. But be assured, it won't be a light whipping."

Iwao's voice trembled as he spoke. "Cayeni warned me about him, Hayashi-san. With all due respect, I'd rather take a whipping for him than piss him off."

Fuji smirked at the door. It seemed Cayeni was helping spread his reputation. If that got him out of a whipping, he'd make sure to send the man a thank you gift.

"Okay," Sora said. "Take his place."

Fuji moved away from the wall and let Iwao take up residence there. He slipped his clothes back on and turned to Sora. "I assume you want me to do the honors?"

"Yes," Sora said. "Thirty strokes. No matter how much he screams."

Iwao made a strangled noise low in his throat. "He's going to whip me?" he asked. "Why?"

"It's how Hayashi works," Fuji said. "You either get whipped or whip someone for her. Honestly, I'm rather pleased that you chose not to whip me."

"Why is that?" Iwao asked.

"Because now I can show you part of the reason I'm called the Bleeder." Fuji watched Iwao's shoulders shake and grinned wickedly. He was playing to Sora's sense of the dramatic, but he was enjoying this too. Iwao had caused him grief earlier and now he was going to get to pay him back in kind.

Sora tapped her foot. "I'm waiting, Syu."

Fuji glared at her. "Don't call me that, Sora."

Iwao gasped.

Sora laughed. "Then get it over with. I'm sure you'd like to go home just as much as I'd like to get you out of my hair."

"With pleasure," Fuji said. He unfurled the whip and tried to ignore the way the screams the whipping forced out of Iwao made him long for the life he could have had, if only he had given into the monster lurking inside.


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Fuji walked back into his house at seven a.m. He'd tried to leave the brothel after he'd whipped Iwao, but Sora had made him stay and catch her up on all the information she didn't have. Being an information broker could be an exhausting job.

He made his way up to his bedroom, relieved to see that Saeki and Ryoma were both sound asleep. He wanted to crawl into bed with them, but if he did that, he'd pass out for hours. And that would only arouse more suspicions from his already suspicious lover.

So instead he changed his clothes, peeling off the Fioraventi suit and replacing it with sweats and a t-shirt. Then he went downstairs and started breakfast. As long as he kept himself busy until it was time for his lovers to go home, he could avoid uncomfortable questions.

His lovers stumbled downstairs once breakfast was done, having been wakened by the smell of food.

"Morning, Syu," Saeki said.

"Morning," Fuji said, turning to look at Ryoma.

Ryoma grunted and took a seat at the table. He wasn't a morning person.

Saeki frowned. "Ryoma, your manners need some work."

Ryoma shrugged his shoulders. This early in the morning, he didn't care about his manners. "Che."

Saeki was silent as he divvied up the food between them. He set Fuji's plate in front of him and claimed his own plate. Ryoma's plate, however, he placed between him and Fuji, waiting for the freshman to come to his senses.

"Give me my food, Saeki," Ryoma said, glaring at him.

Saeki raised an eyebrow. "Not until you lose the attitude. I told you before that manners are important. Have you forgotten that so soon?"

Ryoma scowled.

Fuji smiled as he watched the interplay between the two. He could step in and Ryoma would submit easily, because that was how their dynamic worked. But Saeki and Ryoma still needed to work out their dynamic and he wasn't going to get in the way of that.

Ryoma turned to Fuji. "Syuusuke, please make him give me my food. I'm hungry."

Fuji raised an eyebrow. "I'm not going to help you out of this Ryoma. My orders might have more weight than Saeki's, but I'm not going to help you avoid following his."

Ryoma glared balefully at Fuji for a moment before realizing what he was doing and who he was glaring at. He dropped his eyes and fell silent.

Saeki shrugged. "You can have your food when you remember your manners," he said. Then he turned to Fuji. "Did you find out what Sora wants?"

Fuji nodded. "I did. It's not a difficult job, so I won't have to deal with her on a regular basis. But I need the two of you to stay away from her and anyone associated with her. That includes Tony, Ryoma."

"Hai, Syuusuke." Ryoma glanced longingly at the plate next to Saeki's. He sighed heavily and pushed his chair back. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and walked over to where Saeki was sitting and stood beside him for a solid minute.

Right when Saeki was starting to believe that Ryoma was working up the courage to steal the plate of food and run with it, Ryoma dropped to his knees beside him.

"Gomen nasai, Saeki-san. May I please eat breakfast?"

Saeki moved Ryoma's plate to where the freshman had been sitting. "You may," he said. "I expect you to be respectful and polite at all times, whether you're tired or not. Am I understood?"

"Hai, Saeki-san," Ryoma said, not making a move to get up from his kneel. "May I be seated?"

"You may," Saeki said, smiling as the freshman reclaimed his seat.

Fuji was amused. "I'm glad you two have started to find your rhythm. I know you wanted to spend the rest of the day with me, but I have to get started on the problem Sora gave me to fix. So after breakfast, the two of you are going to need to go home."

"What?" Ryoma asked, then swallowed hard at the disapproving look Saeki gave him. "I mean, why do we need to leave, Syuusuke-san? I'm sure we could help you."

Saeki gave Ryoma a small smile before he voiced his agreement. "We may be able to give you information you need," he said.

Fuji frowned. "I appreciate that you want to help me, but this is an underground problem and it's not one that I can drag you into. The best way for you to help me is to let me keep you safe. I don't want my target finding out that there are people close to me for him to exploit."

"But your target doesn't even know you exist yet," Saeki said.

"Yes," Fuji said. "And I want to keep it that way. The fewer people who know what I have to do, the better. That way the element of surprise will work in my favor."

Saeki frowned. "But we can help."

Ryoma scowled. "Let us do something, Syuusuke. Like Sae-san said, we can help you."

Fuji sighed. "You probably could help, but I can't let you. And if either of you voice any further protests, I'll punish you both for insubordination. Am I understood?"

Ryoma ducked his head. "Hai, Syuusuke-san."

Saeki pursed his lips. "I don't like it, but yes."

"Good," Fuji said. "So after you're done eating, perhaps the two of you should go somewhere and get better acquainted. I have a lot of work to do today and I don't want to worry about you."

Saeki sighed. "Very well," he said. "Ryoma, when we're done, would you like to come with me to the pool hall?"

"Sure," Ryoma said. "I'd hate to disturb Syuusuke while he's working." He didn't bother to hide the bitterness in his tone.

Fuji's eyes flashed. "Ryoma," he said, his tone dropping into a low octave.

Ryoma flinched. "Gomen, Syuusuke," he whispered.

"I'll let it slide, this once," Fuji said. "I understand you're upset and I understand why. But if you ever talk to me like that again, I will take you upstairs and give your mouth a good washing out. Am I understood?"

"Hai, Syuusuke-san."

"Good," Fuji said. "I'll be upstairs if you need me for anything before you leave." He pushed his chair back and took his plate to the sink to rinse it off. While he wasn't strictly lying about needing to work, what he needed to do before anything else was catch up on his sleep.


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

After Saeki and Ryoma finished eating, they headed towards the pool hall. “How long has it been since you’ve played?” Saeki asked.

Ryoma shrugged. “A few months. Pool is more Syuusuke’s game than mine.” 

Saeki chuckled. “Yeah, Syu always did like pool. I think it’s the one on one competition.” He needed to find a way to connect with Ryoma on an emotional level, because right now all the two of them had was the physical connection established by Syuusuke.  
“Maybe,” Ryoma said. “Syuusuke’s hard to read.” 

“Yeah,” Saeki said. “He is. So what got you interested in him in the first place?” 

Ryoma flushed and ducked his head. They passed a convenience store and he slipped some change into the vending machine on the corner. He popped open the Fanta and took two large gulps before he found the courage to speak. “I wasn’t attracted to him by anything normal,” he said. He was unbalanced around Saeki, because he didn’t know anything about him. 

“I wouldn’t expect normal to attract you,” Saeki said. “Considering Syuusuke is the furthest thing from normal that I can imagine.”

“Hai,” Ryoma said. He gestured to the park they were passing. “Would you mind if we skipped the pool hall, Saeki-san?” He flushed as he added the honorific. Around Syuusuke, he was obligated to obey Saeki because he’d agreed to it. But on a personal level, Saeki had yet to earn his submission. Still, better to start off right. 

Saeki glanced sidelong at the freshman walking beside him, his Fanta gripped so tightly in his hand that his knuckles were turning white. “Sure. We can skip the pool hall. You going to answer my question?” he asked, keeping his tone mild. He didn’t like the amount of hesitation Ryoma was showing him, but he was patient. And he also understood that the reason for Ryoma’s hesitation was fear of the unknown. 

“Hai,” Ryoma said. They walked to a picnic table and sat on opposite sides. “I don’t think Syuusuke even knows when I first started watching him.” 

Saeki was silent, waiting for Ryoma to work up the courage to tell him the rest. 

“I watched him play a few matches against our opponents, but I never saw him get serious. It made me curious, so I started watching him when I could. His actions and his words never added up.” 

Saeki grimaced. He remembered how he’d found out about Syuusuke’s sadism. Ryoma’s story was oddly reminiscent of that. “How so?” he asked. 

Ryoma chugged the rest of his Fanta and set the can on the table. “He’s always smiling. I thought it was a weird quirk, at first. But then I started paying attention to the rest of his body. The little tells he has when he’s angry or sad. Or even genuinely happy.” Ryoma looked down at the table in front of him. “Everything he doesn’t show on his face shows in the way he holds his hands.” 

Saeki nodded. It wasn’t easy to spot Syuusuke’s miniscue tells, but once you learned to read them, it was much easier to stay on his good side. “And that’s what attracted you?” he asked. 

Ryoma flushed. “Physically, yes. I used to imagine how his hands would feel—“ He broke off, embarrassed, and cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said. “Once I realized that I could read his tells through how he moved his hands, I realized I liked him. But Saeki, I’ve been a sexual masochist for a long time. I knew it wouldn’t work if he didn’t have sadistic tendencies.” 

Saeki chuckled. “And his fake smile fools everyone into thinking that he isn’t sadistic at all.” 

“Hai. But then I watched him play that match against Mizuki.” 

Saeki’s eyebrows creased in puzzlement. “I haven’t heard about that match.” 

Ryoma grimaced. “Mizuki taught Syu’s brother a dangerous tennis skill. And he told Syuusuke to his face that winning a match was more important to him than Yuuta.” 

Saeki flinched. Messing around with anyone Syuusuke cared about was unhealthy. “What did he do?” he asked. 

Ryoma smirked. “He let Mizuki lead by 5 games then turned it around and won by 7.” 

Saeki laughed. “That sounds like Syuusuke. So that’s when you knew for sure?” 

Ryoma nodded. “Yeah. He noticed me then, too. That I was watching.” 

“And?” 

Ryoma grinned. “And here we are.” 

Saeki smiled back. “Yeah,” he said. “So. Anything you want to ask me?” 

Ryoma raised an eyebrow. “I have a hundred questions, Saeki-san. But most of them won’t get answers, since Syuusuke is determined to keep me in the dark about his past.” 

Saeki pursed his lips. “He’s not trying to hurt you.” 

“I know,” Ryoma said. “But I can make my own decisions about what I need to be protected from.” 

“That may be true. But Syuusuke likes to protect the people he cares about. What’s so bad about letting him?” 

“Because it’s a lie,” Ryoma said. “There’s something about his past Syuusuke is afraid to tell me because he’s afraid I’ll run from him.”

Saeki blinked and took a closer look at the man in front of him. While he’d seen Ryoma’s amazing tennis skills and his ability to submit flawlessly when he chose, it was the first time he’d gotten a glance into the man’s psyche. “Why do you want to know so badly you can’t wait until he’s ready to tell you?” 

Ryoma flushed, but answered. “Because if he’s afraid of me running, I need to know sooner rather than later. If there’s even a chance that it will make me leave him, I need to know that now. Because if he waits until he’s sure it won’t hurt me, then it will kill him if it does.” 

Saeki digested that for a long time, watching as Ryoma fiddled with his empty soda can. “If I tell you,” he said. “Syuusuke will never forgive me.” 

Ryoma tilted his head and stared at him thoughtfully. “But you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?” 

Saeki took a deep breath and nodded. “I would. If you asked me.” 

“Why?” Ryoma asked. “You want to be with Syuusuke, too. And if you did that, if you told me, he’d shut you out of his life. Why would you risk that?” 

Saeki grimaced. “That’s a hard question.” 

“Che. You haven’t asked me any easy ones.” 

Saeki chuckled. “Fair enough.” He took a deep breath and rested his palms on the table in front of him. “You’re right. I do want to be with Syuusuke. I want to be with you, too.” He realized in that moment how much he meant that. This man was seeing into him in ways no one else ever had. Making him admit to truths he didn’t want to acknowledge. 

“So why?” 

“Because,” Saeki said. “You make him happy. Even without me, the two of you would be happy together. I’m just an add-on, a part you don’t need. Maybe three of us makes it more fun, but I’m not necessary or integral to your happiness or his. So I’d tell you, if you asked.” 

Ryoma rolled his eyes. “Saeki, no offense, but you’re an idiot.” 

Saeki raised an eyebrow. “And how would I not take offense to that?” He kept his tone light, to show he was teasing, but inside his emotions were raging. What was Ryoma going to ask of him?  


Ryoma placed a hand on top of Saeki’s. “We’re still figuring this out,” he said, voice soft. “But neither I nor Syuusuke find you dispensable. The three of us is still novel. We’re all still getting used to it. But never doubt, for one second, that you don’t have a place with us.” 

Saeki swallowed hard and nodded once. “Okay,” he said. “Okay.” 

Ryoma slid around the table and sat down beside Saeki, who automatically slid an arm around the man’s waist. Ryoma leaned his head back against Saeki’s chest and sat with him, watching the wind sway the leaves in the trees. Though he hadn’t figured out exactly where Saeki fit in, he believed with surety that there was a place for him with them.


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Fuji yawned as he woke and glanced at the clock. Five p.m. He'd slept later that he'd meant to and it would take him a few days to get his sleeping pattern back to normal. He scowled. Sora's personality was already costing him.

He took a quick shower and entered his father's study with the spare key he'd been given the day he'd become a broker. His father was out of town but Fuji knew he wouldn't miss any details. So he wrote a quick note and stuck it in front of his dad's computer. Grabbed some burgers. Change is in the usual spot.

Fuji wasn't actually taking money for food. Instead, he was grabbing a handful of burner phones. He had need of them rarely, when he needed to delve deeply into the information network. He scooted the couch in his dad's study back and lifted the rug that was under it. At first glance, the wood looked like the wood in the rest of the room.

But there were two small scuff marks that Fuji spotted after a moment. He pressed down on the two at the same time and a five foot section of the floor shifted itself an inch downward and then backwards, hiding itself under the rest of the floor to reveal a descending staircase.

Fuji entered the Sanctum, as his dad called it, and glanced around at the rows of shelves that lined the basement-like room. There were shelves dedicated to burner phones, to laser security tools, to televisions and sound systems, to high end technology like fingerprint encoders. His father had his hand in every technological market there was, even if he did sell only to criminals.

Fuji never got tired of looking at the room. He never took anything he didn't need for business, though, because his dad would know. His dad always knew. Fuji took two burner phones and dropped them into his pockets. That done, he left the Sanctum and went back upstairs, careful to rearrange his father's study so that nothing looked disturbed.

Then he dialed the first person he needed to contact.

"Hello?" A man answered.

"Hi," Fuji said. "We need to meet."

"Okay," the man said. "See you in fifteen." The phone clicked off.

Fuji smiled and dialed the second person he would have to talk to. He didn't wait for her to speak. "Meet me in an hour," he said, then hung up. His other calls would need to wait until he'd talked to these two people.

He grabbed a pair of sunglasses and dropped his smiling mask. Smiling like an idiot wouldn't get him the information he needed and he used his smile to keep people away from him while giving them the impression he was letting them get close. Not an impression he needed to give with the people he was meeting.

On the way to the first meeting, he dropped the phone he'd used in a trash bin beside a bench on the side of the road. He entered the café and took a seat near the back of the restaurant and ordered a coffee.

Two minutes later, the man he'd called slid into the chair opposite him. "Make it quick," he said. "I need to get to work."

Fuji gave a slight nod. "What do you know about the Kirihara family?"

"Not much," the man said. "One son, around 17. It's rumored he cripples people he plays sports with. His parents don't seem to be around much. The Kirihara's are supposedly rich because they own a large mansion, but there is no visual proof of their wealth."

"That's all?" Fuji asked, disappointed. This man was usually good at pulling full backgrounds on people.

"At the moment," the man said. "Give me a day and my going rate and I'll have you the details you need in 24 hours."

Fuji pretended to consider the offer. In truth, there was no way he wouldn't take it. But it wouldn't do to seem easy. "I need someone who can get it to me by 8 am," he said.

The man glanced at his watch. "My job will take me eight hours tonight. If you hire me, that's only a two hour window to get the information you want."

Fuji shrugged. "Can you do it or not, Gabriel? I can always find someone else."

Gabriel smirked. "Of course I can. But I'll need a monetary incentive to work that fast."

"If you bring me your standard level of information by 8 am tomorrow, I'll pay you triple your normal rate. If you can't meet your own standards, I won't pay you at all."

Gabriel scowled. "You sell a hard bargain, Fuji."

"Yes or no?" Fuji asked. He was in no mood to barter. He had another meeting to get to.

"Yes," Gabriel bit out. "I'll leave it in your mailbox."

"I'll wire you the money," Fuji said. "Enjoy the rest of your day." He slapped the money down for his coffee, plus a small tip, and left the restaurant. Then he made his way to the local museum where his second contact worked. On the way, he dialed another number.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Karl. I need everything you can find about Kirihara Akaya and his style of tennis by the end of the week."

"No prob, Fuji. Been awhile since you asked me to check up on another tennis player. He skilled?"

Fuji tensed. "Aa," he said, forcing a brightness he didn't feel into his voice. "I will feel better if I have all his tennis data."

"That scary, eh?" Karl asked. "Alright, no prob. I'll email it to you by Friday."

"Thanks," Fuji said and hung up, tossing the phone into the nearest trash bin. While Karl wasn't really part of the underground, he had ties to unorthodox people because he sold statistics and sports information to all types of people. If you got caught with the type of information Karl had about personal opponents, it could end a sports career.

Fuji walked into the museum and straight to the back, where the employees worked. "Madam Taiyumi?" he called.

Taiyumi spotted him and pulled him out onto the museum floor. "What do you mean by coming to my work place like this?" she asked, voice a hiss.

Fuji smiled and threaded his arm through hers and squeezed harshly, forcing her to bite off an exclamation of pain. "Your time is mine," he said. "I'm calling in your debt."

"Fine," Taiyumi said. "What do you want?"

"I want you to get a rumor started at Rikkai. Don't protest," he said, silencing her just as she was about to start. "I know some of your thieves are there. And I'm not asking you to do anything dangerous. Just start a rumor."

Taiyumi frowned. "Rumors can be dangerous."

"Perhaps," Fuji said. "But this rumor is meant for one person to hear and it will make him target me, not anyone else."

"Oh," Taiyumi said. "As long as my friends aren't in danger, I'll do this."

Fuji squeezed her arm hard. "You'll do it because you owe me, and if you don't, I'll make your friends homeless."

Taiyumi gave a sharp nod and he released his death grip on her arm. "I'll do it," she said, glancing sidelong at her arm where a dark bruise had started to appear.

"Yes, you will," Fuji said.

"So what is this rumor?" she asked, breaking an awkward silence that had fallen between them.

"You need to make sure that Kirihara Akaya hears a rumor telling him that Fuji Syuusuke has target him as his next victim. And be sure that the rumor mentions the things I've done to other people who cross me."

"You want us to scare him?" Taiyumi asked.

Fuji smiled grimly. "No," he said. "I want you to piss him off. I want him angry and rash. I want him to think that he can best me in everything, so that he's overconfident and confrontational anytime he gets near me. I want him so sure that he can never be broken that it will take him by complete surprise when it happens."

Taiyumi swallowed. "Why are you telling me all this?" she whispered. "I could just tell him the truth."

Fuji smiled. "Do you think I haven't thought of that?" he asked. "What would happen if you told Kirihara anything I've said to you today?" He waited for the realization to sink in.

"He would believe he could win," Taiyumi said.

"Exactly," Fuji said. "You'll tell him, one way or the other, and it will have the same effect. And if you don't tell him, well. I'll let your mind fill in the blanks." He withdrew his arm from hers and exited the museum. He took a circuitous route and headed back to his house.

He'd set the wheels in motion. Now all he had to do was wait for the information from Gabriel and Karl and listen for the rumors that would start circulating at every tennis match Rikkai played. He'd make sure he was there for all their matches on the days Seigaku wasn't playing. He wanted to throw Kirihara off-balance. For the first time in a long time, Fuji was going to be able to break someone without anything holding him back. That set his blood boiling.


	10. Chapter Ten

**

Chapter Ten

**

Fuji frowned as his cell vibrated in his pocket. He'd finished all of his work and was walking up the driveway to his house. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and half-smiled as he flipped it open. "Ryoma," he said. "How unusual for you to call me."

Unusual didn't cover it. Since they had started dating, Ryoma had never called Fuji. It had become an unspoken understanding that Ryoma never initiated contact, because doing so undermined the authority he'd given Fuji.

Ryoma sucked in a deep breath. "Che," he said. "I'm only calling because somethin's up with Saeki."

Fuji's lips twitched at the thinly veiled insolence. "Oh?" he asked, inserting the key into his front door.

"Hai," Ryoma said. "He's got a weird insecurity thing going on. I don't like it."

Fuji missed a step, almost stumbling across the threshold. Saeki? Insecure? He wished the two images didn't fit together so well in his mind. "And Saeki's revealing his innermost feelings to you already?" He winced, the words a forceful reminder that he himself hadn't been very forthcoming with Ryoma.

There was a pause as Ryoma weighed those words and Fuji knew his lover was deciding whether to toss them back in his face or let the comment slide.

"Hai," Ryoma said, his voice tight with the effort it took to restrain himself.

Fuji breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want to deal with a temper tantrum. "Tell me what happened." Ryoma hesitated a moment too long and Fuji scowled at the phone. "Ryoma," he said, the word laden with warning.

"We were talking," Ryoma said. "I told him my concerns about you keeping secrets from me."

A flash of panic drove the breath from Fuji's lungs and he closed his eyes, trying to regain his equilibrium. The world dulled and he heard nothing for a few seconds or minutes—he couldn't tell, he felt like he was floating in a vacuum—and then it all came rushing back, just in time for him to hear –

"-And he offered to tell me your secrets, because he said he was the least important of all of us and that he would give up his own happiness for ours."

Panic threatened to seize him again, but Fuji pushed it down. Ryoma didn't know, did he? If he did, oh what a weight that would lift…but if he didn't, and Fuji said the wrong thing…he cleared his throat. "And?" he asked.

"And what?"

"Did you ask him?"

Ryoma was quiet for a few seconds. "I thought about it," he admitted. "But I decided that I want you to tell me your secrets, Syuusuke, I don't want someone else to tell me before you're ready to let me in."

Fuji's head swam. While Ryoma's words made sense, his actions didn't. "So you called me."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because of Saeki. He thinks he's not important. Haven't you been listening?" Petulance snuck into Ryoma's tone.

Fuji's lips tightened in annoyance as he took a seat on his bed. "That's the second time today you've developed an attitude with me," he said.

Ryoma swallowed, but didn't reply.

"Get Saeki. I want you both here within the hour. And Ryoma?"

"Yes, Syuusuke?" The trepidation in Ryoma's voice was palpable.

"Buy some soap. You know what kind."

"Hai, Fuji-sama," Ryoma said, his tone coming out meek and subdued.

Fuji snapped his phone shut, ending the call, and laid back on the bed. With his arms folded behind his head, he stared at the ceiling and gathered the strength he was going to need to deal with his lovers.

 

Ryoma stopped in front of the drugstore and snapped his phone open, dialing Saeki's number.

"Hey," Saeki said, answering after the first ring.

"Saeki-san, please tell me I caught you before you got on the bus."

"You did. I'm waiting at the station now."

Ryoma sighed in relief. "I'm glad. Listen, I just talked to Syuusuke. He wants us both at his house within the hour."

"Oh," Saeki said. "Where are you?"

Ryoma grimaced, shooting a distasteful look at the drugstore looming in front of him. "I'm in front of the pharmacy."

"Is there a bench near you?"

Ryoma glanced around, spotting a bench directly across from the store's entrance. "There is. Why?"

Saeki let out a small laugh. "Is it occupied?"

"No."

Saeki's tone suddenly turned hard. "Good. Sit down and wait for me. I'm two blocks away."

Ryoma swallowed. While it was Saeki's prerogative to give him orders, it was the first time the man had sounded so forceful. Without thinking about it too much, Ryoma found himself obeying. He sat on the bench. Faced with the drugstore, knowing what he had to buy, he found it difficult to remain there.

"I'm on the bench, Saeki-san," he said. "May I ask why you wanted me to sit?" He kept his tone respectful. The drugstore was a powerful reminder of what he'd done wrong and he had no desire to add to the punishment he knew was waiting for him at Fuji's.

"Makes it easier for me to find you," Saeki said. "Now tell me why Syuusuke wants us at his house. He made it clear this morning that he needed us out of the way today."

Ryoma closed his eyes. He had a feeling that Saeki wasn't going to like the answer. But the pause he took was too long.

"Ryoma," Saeki said. "Do we need to revisit the rules about respect?" His tone was steel.

"No, Saeki-san. Gomen nasai," Ryoma said. Before further admonishment was forthcoming, he continued, "I called Syuusuke. I told him about our conversation in the park."

"And now he wants us at his house?" Saeki asked, mild surprise in his voice.

Ryoma hesitated. "I told him that you offered me to tell me his secrets."

"I see." Saeki's words were devoid of emotion.

Ryoma didn't know if he should be apologizing or reassuring. Saeki's sudden detachment freaked him out. "I—are you mad?" he asked, voice a whisper.

"Mad? No," Saeki said. "I knew before we talked that you don't keep secrets from Syuusuke. I'm just surprised that you told him so fast." Saeki's tone was flat, monotonous.

"I don't know what to say."

"That makes two of us. I'm close. I'll be there in a couple of minutes."

"I'm sor—" The phone went flat as Saeki hung up and Ryoma slipped his into his pocket. He tugged his hat down over his eyes and folded his hands in his lap. Today was turning out to be one of the worst days he'd had in a long time. Everything he said seemed to work only to make things worse.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

Saeki emerged from the crowd. He stopped in front of Ryoma and held out a hand. Wordlessly, Ryoma allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

"Let's go," Saeki said.

Ryoma took a deep breath. "Saeki-san, I need to buy something before we go." His voice shook as he spoke.

Saeki's black eyes drilled into Ryoma as he searched for any hidden nuance. Finding nothing, he gave a slight nod. "What do you need to buy?"

Ryoma swallowed. "Soap, Saeki-san," he said, somehow managing to keep his voice from breaking.

Oh. Sudden understanding flooded Saeki. "What did you do?"

Ryoma ducked his head, flushing. "Syuusuke didn't like my tone."

Two minutes passed before Saeki spoke again. When he did, his voice was tight with suppressed emotion, his eyes firmly locked on Ryoma. "You disrespected him today, of all days. Why?"

Ryoma shivered at the anger Saeki was barely keeping in check and lowered his eyes in abject submission. He had one punishment waiting for him already; he didn't want to invite another. "Because sometimes my mouth runs ahead of my brain, Saeki-sama," he said.

Saeki frowned at the man in front of him. "That," he said, "is an understatement. Go buy your soap."

Ryoma nodded once and turned towards the pharmacy.

"And be quick about it!" Saeki said, voice sharp.

Ryoma jumped and quickened his pace. He hurried through the aisles until he found the soap that Fuji preferred. He got stalled in line, however, and murmured a quick apology when he came back outside and found a scowling Saeki.

"What is so special about this soap?" Saeki asked, taking the bag from Ryoma and peering inside as they started walking towards Fuji's house.

"It's unique," Ryoma said. "I'm sure you've heard of edible soap, but this particular company decided to experiment with non-toxic chemicals until they could produce any sort of flavor you can imagine. Most of the flavors are meant to mimic delicacies and taste great, but there are a few where they went for humor."

"I take it their sense of humor is questionable," Saeki said, tone dry.

"Aa. They were going for practical jokes, but the tastes aren't jokes. The flavor Fuji seems to favor is the charcoal one."

Saeki understood instantly. "Because coal is awarded to bad children. He is sadistic enough to find amusement in that."

"Hai."

"Have you always been this disrespectful?" Saeki asked, tone curious. He waited for his lover to respond as they walked. But as one block turned into two blocks and then into five blocks, he realized that Ryoma had no intention of answering his question. Saeki lengthened his stride and then planted himself in front of Ryoma, forcing the freshman to come to a halt or risk running him over.

"Saeki-san, we're going to be late," Ryoma said, voice coming out in its typical drawl. While he wasn't looking forward to what awaited him at Fuji's, his temperament would never change.

"We can always make use of this soap on the way to Fuji's if you have an objection," Saeki said, letting his irritation bleed into his voice. He watched with satisfaction as Ryoma's eyes began to widen in realization. "When I ask you a question, you answer it. Clear?"

"Hai, Saeki-san. Gomen nasai. I don't remember the question," Ryoma said, wincing as he admitted as much. Why couldn't he keep himself together today?

"Respect," Saeki said sharply. "Have you always lacked it?"

Ryoma shuddered at the barbed words. "No, Saeki-san. You and Syuusuke are the only ones who find me disrespectful."

Saeki raised an eyebrow. "I find that hard to believe," he said, resuming his place beside Ryoma so they could continue walking.

Ryoma gave a dry laugh. "Yes, well, I grew up in America. What is considered rude in Japan is considered polite over there. Direct, blunt words are favored over the subtle ones used here. Being honest is favored over being sly. So adjusting to what you and Fuji expect of me—namely, to act like someone who has lived in this country since birth—is incredibly difficult for me. Because I didn't grow up here, I don't have that same sensibility. I come across as rude, arrogant, and obnoxious here where in America everyone is like that."

"Hmm," Saeki said. "Are you trying to say that we aren't being fair to you because you grew up in another country?"

Ryoma shuddered at the underlying menace in those words. "No, Saeki-sama. I'm sorry if my words implied that, because they weren't meant to."

"If that's the case," Saeki asked, "shouldn't the answer to my question have been yes, Ryoma-kun?"

Ryoma flinched. He'd forgotten that Saeki could wield words on par with Fuji. "Gomen nasai, Saeki-sama. May I reword the answer to your question?"

"Hmm. I think not," Saeki said. "I believe Syuusuke might find it interesting to know that you find our expectations to be unfair."

His mouth going dry, Ryoma dry-swallowed a few times as he tried to find words to drive back the sudden panic he felt. "I don't find your expectations of me to be unfair, Saeki-sama," he whispered.

"No?" Saeki asked. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Ryoma said. He wanted to find more words—better words—to express himself, but they wouldn't come to his mind. He liked that his lovers held him to such high expectations. Others might find that unfair, but Ryoma liked to be pushed to his limits and both Fuji and Saeki did that. But he couldn't figure out a way to put those thoughts into words without making it sound like he found the expectations held of him to be unfair, so he stayed silent.

"Then I'll ask you again," Saeki said. "Have you always been disrespectful?"

Ryoma closed his eyes against the relief that threatened to overwhelm him. He was being given a second chance. "Hai, Saeki-sama." He choked off the words that wanted to come after that simple answer, because they weren't respectful and considering the precarious situation he was in…well, best not to chance it.

Saeki smiled. "Good thing you're with us, then," he said. He hefted the bag, drawing Ryoma's attention to the soap. "I have a feeling Fuji will agree with me when I say that we will help correct your attitude."

Ryoma eyed the bag with distaste, but the knowledge of what awaited him kept his tone civil and allowed him to give the appropriate response. "Hai, Saeki-sama. Arigatou." He almost felt relief when he saw Fuji's house come into view. At least he understood Fuji and could predict him, even if it was just a little. Saeki, on the other hand, was too unpredictable. It was unnerving.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**

Chapter Twelve

**

Fuji paced across the living room as he waited for his lovers. Ryoma had sprung an unwelcome surprise on him when he'd confided that Saeki had been willing to share Fuji's secrets.

He wanted to be angry, but he understood Saeki's motivations. Saeki was the unknown factor in their relationship. Saeki didn't understand how he fit in, so he'd seen offering Fuji's secrets as a way to gracefully withdraw from a confusing situation.

Still. If Saeki had told him...But he didn't, Fuji forcefully reminded himself. Still, Saeki should have had more common sense. It was glaringly obvious that Fuji wasn't ready to reveal the darker parts of his past with Ryoma. So Fuji had assumed that Saeki would respect that.

It was a foolish assumption to make, of course. Fuji's usual forethought had deserted him. Or rather, I focused it on dealing with this new project Sora has me working on. If he'd kept himself together, Fuji would have made sure that Saeki understood that his past wasn't to be shared, except on the terms he dictated.

Ryoma's principles had kept a close call from becoming more than that. They hadn't kept the freshman from adopting a bad attitude, of course, but Fuji expected that by now. Ryoma's mouth tended to run away with him at the most inopportune times. It gave Fuji a thrill of satisfaction because a relationship with Ryoma could never be boring.

Fuji walked to the window and pulled the curtain back, gathering his composure as he spotted his lovers coming up the drive. Ryoma's transgression would be easy enough to deal with, but he needed to have a serious conversation with Saeki.

A couple minutes later, Saeki and Ryoma were walking through the door. Both of them looked ill at ease.

"Syuusuke-san," Saeki said, acknowledging Fuji's presence.

Fuji noted the tightness of Saeki's voice and the way the silver-haired man met his eyes, then bounced off, and kept repeating the pattern. The fact that Saeki felt unsettled helped calm Fuji. He needed that level of control in order to deal with the two of them.

"Ryoma-chan,"Fuji said, turning to his errant lover. "Aren't you going to greet me?" Ryoma gave a full-body flinch at the implication that he'd ignored Fuji on purpose. Fuji found that interesting, because Ryoma rarely ever greeted him properly upon entering his home. Fuji wondered if he'd exchanged words with Saeki about respect.

And then he didn't have to wonder, because Ryoma stepped in front of him and fell to his knees so gracefully it could have been orchestrated. "Fuji-sama," he said, pressing his forehead against the ground directly in front of Fuji's feet.

The act of submission took Fuji's breath away. Ryoma had never fallen into submission so easily before. He exchanged glances with Saeki over Ryoma's head and noted the small smirk of satisfaction that graced Saeki's lips.

Fuji raised his eyebrows at Saeki, who mouthed, Later, at him. Amused, and thus willing to wait for an explanation, he wound a hand through Ryoma's hair. "As pretty as this is," he said, pulling on the strands hard enough to make his lover gasp, "I think we should continue our discussion in my room." He guided Ryoma to his feet through the grasp he had on his hair and the three of them went upstairs to his room.

Once ensconced in his bedroom, Fuji shut the door and took a seat on his bed. Ryoma knelt in front of him, forehead pressed to the ground. Saeki, for his part, leaned against the door and watched the sight unfold in front of him.

Fuji nodded at the bag in Saeki's hand. "That's the soap I asked him to buy?"

"It is," Saeki said, leaning forward and tossing the bag to Fuji.

Fuji turned his attention to Ryoma. "Kneel up," he said. Ryoma instantly went from kneeling with his head on the ground to sitting on his ankles, looking straight ahead into Fuji's stomach. "What did I tell you this morning?" he asked.

Ryoma swallowed, but didn't hesitate as he replied, "You told me if I used a disrespectful tone with you again that you would wash my mouth out with soap, Fuji-sama."

"And what did you do after that?" Fuji asked.

Ryoma gritted his teeth. He hated this part of punishment more than anything else. "I disrespected you over the phone, Fuji-sama."

"Aa. So how do you propose to remedy the situation, Ryoma?" Fuji asked. Usually, when punishment was warranted, he just meted it out. But when he'd given a clear warning and then been ignored, he added a mental component. Ryoma was going to have to ask for punishment.

"I…" Ryoma started, but his mouth went dry as soon as he started to speak. His hands tightened into fists where he held them on his knees.

"I'm waiting," Fuji said.

Ryoma flinched. If he made Fuji wait too long, then it would increase the duration as well as the severity of the punishment. "Gomen nasai, Fuji-sama. Please punish me for disobeying you," he said, voice a whisper.

"Hmm?" Fuji asked. "I can't hear you."

Ryoma shuddered. Sometimes he resented Fuji's vindictive streak. This was one of those times, but if he wasn't careful to conceal it, he would find himself with more than a mouthful of soap. "Gomen," he said, forcing himself to speak at a normal volume. "Please punish me for disobeying you." He closed his eyes in shame as the words left his lips; knowing that he deserved this humiliation made it harder to bear.

"Aa," Fuji said. "And how will this remedy the situation? You are consistently disrespectful, no matter what I do. So how is this going to help, when you will end up doing it again so that I am forced to punish you again?"

Ryoma slumped. He didn't know how to answer the onslaught of Fuji's questions. He never did; they were designed to take the place of a lecture because Fuji knew that he would beat himself up far worse than any lecture could. Tears threatened to fall, but he forced them back. "I can only promise to try harder, Fuji-sama," he said. "Please allow me that chance."

Fuji smiled. "Very well," he said. He pulled the soap out of the bag and unwrapped the plastic. "Open your mouth."

Ryoma obeyed instantly, his hands trembling, and Fuji slid the soap inside. Ryoma grimaced at the foul taste, longing to spit it out, but kept a firm hold on the soap. After all, he'd asked for the punishment. He'd asked for a second chance. If he didn't accept it now, then he would betray the trust Fuji was putting in him.

Fuji watched the psychological aspect of the punishment grip Ryoma and nodded to himself. "Two hours," he said. "Then I'll take it out."

Ryoma closed his eyes in despair, but gave a shallow nod of his own. He moved to sit against a wall, keeping his hands folded firmly in his lap. And if he needed to clasp them tightly together to keep from wrenching the soap out of his mouth, no one commented on it. His strength of will was formidable.

That settled, Fuji turned his attention on Saeki. "You had no right," he said.

Saeki's face lost its color and he ducked his head in acknowledgment. "I know," he said, managing to keep his words above a whisper.

"I should kick you out now," Fuji said, watching Saeki carefully. "Before you can reveal things about my past I don't want known or before you decide my enemies are the ones you should be trading in information with."

Saeki's shoulders hunched as he bore the accusations, but his eyes drew tight with rage. "I would never betray you like that," he said, his voice almost a hiss. "I offered to tell Ryoma only because I'm afraid that you risk losing more by keeping your past secret than by telling him the truth. I would never—

"You should trust me to know my own mind," Fuji said, glaring at the silver-haired man in front of him.

"You should trust Ryoma enough to let him make his own decisions about your past," Saeki countered, lightning-fast. "Instead, you assume that he will run in fear from you but you don't give him the choice to choose."

"How dare you—

"No," Saeki said, voice almost a snarl. "How dare you assume Ryoma can't handle your past, when I can, and I am nowhere near as strong as him? How dare you treat him like he's made of glass, when he can stand in front of you and take a whipping that would fell lesser men just for the sake of keeping your secrets safe?"

Fuji stared at Saeki, lost for words. It wasn't a feeling he had often. Saeki met his gaze unflinchingly and the anger in them was almost enough to make Fuji break away first. Almost, but not quite. He let silence fill the room, let it stretch taut until it felt like it would break, and refused to be the first to speak. Because while Saeki could make good points—did make good points—the truth was that he'd acted against Fuji's wishes.

Five minutes of silence passed before Saeki forced himself away from the door and stood in front of Fuji, staring down at him. The two of them met each other's eyes until Saeki closed his. Without a word, Saeki lowered himself into a kneel and rested his head on Fuji's knee.

Fuji hesitated for a second, then let himself be honest. He ran a hand through Saeki's hair. "I will tell him when I'm ready," he said. "I am not worried about his ability to handle the truth."

Saeki started at that, pulling his head back so that he could meet Fuji's eyes. "Then what are you worried about, Syu?" he asked, the question a whisper.

"My ability to face it," Fuji said, breaking eye contact first for the first time in his life. He'd never admitted the fear he felt towards his own past before. He waited for recrimination that never came.

"Oh," Saeki said, the word breathed with a level of understanding that could only be achieved by someone who had felt the same fear and overcome it. "Oh, Syuusuke," he said. "With us by your side, what can't you face?"

Fuji said nothing, but his grip on Saeki's hair tightened almost imperceptibly.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

The day Seigaku was supposed to face Rikkaidai, it was raining. Fuji frowned up at the sky, disappointed. He'd been looking forward to playing, but by the way the sky was darkening, it was almost a guarantee that the match would be postponed.

And the rain had come out of nowhere. When they'd left Seigaku, the sun had been shining and the weather had seemed perfect for a match. But by the time they got to the courts, it was pouring.

"Damn it, I'm all psyched up. Why does it have to rain?" Momo whined, standing up and swinging his racquet around. Unlike the others, who were content to nurse their annoyance as they sat around the picnic tables, Momo was too physical a person to stay still.

"The sky won't clear up even if you get mad," Ryoma said, popping the top off of a Fanta before taking a swig.

"What was that?" Momo half-snarled, turning around to glare at Echizen.

Fuji had to swallow a laugh. He knew his lover had to be itching to play just as badly as Momo was, but he was doing a much better job of keeping his excess energy contained. At one point in time, he might have chalked it up to Ryoma wanting to keep Fuji from getting annoyed, but he knew Ryoma too well by now to give himself that much credit. Ryoma had his own form of dignity and wasn't likely to act childishly over something he couldn't control.

Once he realized that Ryoma had no intention of replying, Fuji smoothly interjected himself into the conversation so that an argument wouldn't break out. "Echizen is right," he said. "The match won't start even if you're annoyed."

"I can't calm down," Eiji said, half-lying on the table. Almost every member of the team was doing something to try and relieve the tension caused by not knowing whether the match was going to be postponed or not.

Fuji and Ryoma were the only ones who seemed to have some semblance of calm. Fuji knew that it was just a front for Ryoma, but he wasn't about to say that in front of his teammates. And while he was disappointed they probably wouldn't be playing, he wouldn't mind the opportunity to have some extra time to practice before such an important match.

"How are you doing?" someone called.

Fuji turned around with the rest of the team to see Tachibana Anna and Kamio Akira.

"What are you doing here?" Momo asked. "Did you come to cheer us on?"

"No, you idiot," Kamio said. "We're here to gather information on Rikkaidai. We have to pay them back for what they did to us at the semi-finals."

"That's why I wanted to record the match and show it to my brother," Ann said. "But it looks like the match is going to be postponed."

Fuji stood up. "How is he doing?" he asked. After seeing what Kirihara had put the Fudomine captain through, he wasn't sure how long it would take for him to recover.

Ann hesitated.

"What's wrong?" Kawamura asked, attention focused on Kaidoh.

That turned the rest of Seigaku's attention to Kaidoh, whose eyes were focused on three members wearing the Rikkaidai uniform. Fuji recognized Kirihara immediately and his hands tightened into fists at his side before he forced them to relax. He might not like what Kirihara had done to Fudomine's captain, but he had to admit that Kirihara had more presence than he liked.

Normally, Fuji went after people who had hurt him or his friends. Kirihara was different, because he'd gone after someone who Fuji didn't even know. But Sora had asked that he break the Rikkaidai player in return for the favor she'd done by issuing an open-ended hands-off for Ryoma.

But that wasn't what struck Fuji the most about Kirihara. It was the first time he'd assessed the Rikkaidai player as a potential target and for a split second, he wondered if he had the ability to break the man. Because Kirihara's eyes were full of self-knowledge, self-hatred, and just a touch of insanity.

The first two emotions were familiar to Fuji, as he felt them every day. But that touch of insanity was what worried him. What had caused that slightly crazed, haunted look in Kirihara's eyes? Fuji frowned. He'd need to find that out if he was going to break this man, because there was a secret buried there.

"Kirihara Akaya," Oishi said. "He's the one who caused Tachibana's injury."

"Aa," Fuji said, pulling his attention back to the people standing in front of him. He would have time for contemplation later.

While the other two members of Rikkaidai left, Kirihara made his way towards Seigaku. "Fuji Syuusuke," he said. "You're Seigaku's ace with Tezuka-san gone. I hope you'll make our game slightly interesting."

"What was that, you bastard?" Momo yelled, trying to force his way past Fuji, who held out an arm to hold him back. "Fuji-senpai!"

Fuji kept himself from rolling his eyes, but it was a hard battle. Didn't Momo realize that giving into taunts like that was a sure way to lose an argument before it had even started? At least Ryoma was doing the right thing by observing, rather than trying to rush to his rescue. That was something Fuji knew he could always count on.

"I don't know if we'll be playing today," Fuji said, choosing his words carefully, "but let's have a good match." He didn't miss the way Kirihara's eyes narrowed. So the rumors had been circulating and the man had caught the undercurrent of threat in his tone. Good. This was starting to look like a more enjoyable challenge by the second.

Kirihara smirked and turned his attention to Fudomine. "Are you guys here to ask Seigaku to get your revenge?"

"We still have Nationals," Kamio said. "It won't go the way it did last time."

"I can't wait," Kirihara said. "I'll be disappointed if you give me another screwed game."

"Screwed game?" Ann asked, leaping forward to attack Kirihara. Kamio held her back. Fuji found that a wise move. Kirihara wasn't the type to keep himself in check just because a girl had been the one to attack him.

"The fact that he got injured during the game is proof that it was screwed," Kirihara said.

"You're the one who caused him the injury!" Ann yelled. "It's your fault that my brother's in the hospital."

"Hmph." Kirihara spoke with contempt, "Now not only does Seigaku have a captain who had to retire, but so does Fudomine. Tachibana-san and Tezuka-san must have been practicing way too lightly."

Fuji's eyes shot open at the insult to Tezuka, but he forced himself to stay calm. Kirihara didn't know anything about Tezuka. To get angry at him because he was good at playing word games would be falling straight into his trap. And Fuji wasn't that easy to school.

"What did you say, you bastard!?" Momo lunged forward, but Oishi got his hands around the power player's waist in time to keep him from touching Kirihara.

"Momo, calm down!" Oishi said, struggling with his teammate.

"Let me go!" Momo said.

"An injury during a match is a person's own fault," Kirihara said, causing Momo's ire to rise. "He must not have been properly prepared."

Oishi continued to struggle to hold Momo back. Fuji was both annoyed and touched that Momo was so willing to leap to the defense of his teammates. While it was good to have a lot of passion, it was also good to know where your limits were. And there was no way that Momo could have taken Kirihara in a fight. For that matter, Fuji wasn't sure he could take him either, if it came down to that. Saeki might have a chance, though. He gave himself a mental shake. He didn't have time to be thinking about Saeki right now.

"I'd like to have a real match with you," Kirihara said, attention fixated on Fuji.

"Aa," Fuji said. "Same here." The two of them held eye contact, neither one willing to break it first. It had been a long time since anyone could meet Fuji's eyes without flinching or giving in.

"But the victory will be Rikkaidai's anyway," Kirihara said.

"I wonder. We won't know until we play," Fuji said, letting the threat back into his voice. He knew what Kirihara was playing at and he wasn't going to let the man leave without understanding that he'd walked into a viper's nest on his own accord.

Sanada was the one who ended up breaking the staring contest between the two, as he came back to fetch Kirihara.

Fuji observed the interaction between the two, filing it away as information that could be useful later. And speaking of information—Gabriel had left him a package this morning, but he hadn't had time to grab it before he'd headed towards Seigaku. When he got home, maybe he could find an answer to why the Rikkaidai player seemed half-crazed.

But as he walked off the court, he realized he was humming under his breath. Kirihara was worth breaking. He was strong enough to make it interesting and Fuji hadn't realized, until he'd come face to face with a man aware of his intention to destroy him, just how much fun the games he played with people could be. And if that pleasure was edged with a hint of unease, that was okay. Because here was a chance for him to take pleasure in his work, something he hadn't been able to do in a long, long time.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**

Chapter Thirteen

**

Saeki's phone vibrated inside his pants pocket as he was pulling books from his locker. He shoved them under his arm and tugged his phone free to see Fuji's number flash across the screen. He flipped the phone open. "Hey," he said. "What's up?"

"Are you doing anything important right now?" Syuusuke asked.

Saeki raised an eyebrow. "I have some homework, but it shouldn't take more than half an hour. Why?"

"Something's not right with Ryoma."

Saeki's stomach clenched, but he ignored it. "Oh?" He could almost feel Syuusuke's scowl from the other side of the receiver.

"Today during practice, he was off."

Saeki rolled his eyes. It was both exasperating and endearing how Syuusuke made people pull information from him, as if it were a precious secret to be guarded. _Then again, he is an information broker._ "Off how, exactly?"

"He couldn't hit any returns to Momo. They all went into the net or into the fence."

Saeki raised an eyebrow. Ryoma was having that much trouble with tennis? "And you don't know what caused it?" he asked, careful to keep his voice free of the amusement he felt. For Fuji, a lack of knowledge was anathema.

"No," Syuusuke bit out. "But I know he'll be going to the courts after he gets home. I'd like to find out what's going on, but I have to meet with someone."

Saeki managed to bite his tongue before he asked Syuusuke who it was he had to meet, but it was a near thing. Common sense told him that it would be a contact that would help Fuji deal with the Sora situation. "So what do you want me to do?" he asked.

"Can you go to the courts in my stead?"

"Sure," Saeki said, ignoring the concern in Syuusuke's voice. The man would hate to know his concern for Ryoma was so obvious, because he would view it as a weakness. "I have to drop my books off at home, but I'll go there afterwards."

"Thanks, Sae."

The phone clicked off and Saeki shrugged, hefting his books as he walked out of the school. Syuusuke didn't ask him to do things very often. There was an understanding between the two of them that Saeki would obey him when pressed, but since he wasn't submissive by nature, Fuji didn't press too often.

Saeki dropped his books on the coffee table when he got home. He preferred to study in the den, as it had the best window view in the house. He headed upstairs to change out of his school uniform into some street clothes, but his mother was blocking the way.

"Saeki," she said, and her voice was strained. She was similar in appearance to him, slender and tall. The only thing he had inherited from his father was his black eyes, as his mother's eyes shown with a golden brilliance.

"Mom," he said, keeping his tone measured. His toes curled in his shoes. _Has she discovered it?_ He wondered.

"I spoke to Shudo's mother today," she said. "I heard a very different story from the one you've been telling me about where you spend your weekends."

_Kuso. She knows._ Saeki shrugged his shoulders, holding his mother's gaze. "I lied," he said.

She stared at him for a minute. "Why?"

"Because you won't like the truth," he said. And she wouldn't. How could he tell her about Syuusuke, when he knew how much both of his parents hated what had happened to him?

"Is it a girl?"

"What? No," he said. "I'm not interested in girls. You know that." _And how many times have we had that conversation? She should know by now that I have no interest in women._

"Then..." Her face clouded as she made the logical connection. "Who is he?" she asked, her voice tight with suppressed emotion.

"If I answer that question," Saeki said, "will you get out of the way so I can go change my clothes? I have an engagement."

"Fine," she said "Who is it?"

Saeki pressed his lips into a thin line. "Echizen Ryoma and Fuji Syuusuke," he said, squeezing past her as she stared at him in shock. He'd been honest. There was sure to be some sort of fallout, but he was 17. There was nothing she could do to him at this point.

"Are you crazy?" she yelled. "Why are you consorting with that- that—"

"That what, Mother?" he asked, turning around at the top of the stairs to face her.

"He's a monster," she whispered. "After what he did to you, how can you let him touch you?"

Saeki decided to take pity on her and stepped forward, clasping her hands in his. "He's changed, Mother. He isn't a boy with bad temper anymore."

She pulled her hands away and snorted delicately. "I hope you're right," she said. "You're old enough to make your own decisions. Be careful that you make the right ones."

"Aa," Saeki said. "I'm always careful." He watched her withdraw from the room before he entered his own and exchanged his clothes. _Now that's over with,_ he thought, _let's go find out what is causing Ryoma so much mental stress that even Fuji is being affected by it._


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Saeki made his way to the court without incident. He had intended to confront Ryoma upon arriving, since the freshman usually practiced alone. But he’d caught sight of someone he didn’t recognize and slowed to a stop just shy of the courts. He watched the stranger engage Ryoma in an intense match with a clinical eye from the side of the building he was leaning against, just out of sight of the two men. 

He frowned. Something about the guy playing Ryoma didn’t sit right in his stomach. Had he seen him before? What was Ryoma doing going to a stranger for help, anyway? Weren’t him and Syuusuke good enough? Saeki’s hands clenched into fists at his side and he forced himself to take a couple of deep, calming breaths. Like Syuusuke, he didn’t believe in getting angry where he could be seen by others. 

While Syuusuke believed that the angry person who lost their cool also lost their control of the situation, Saeki felt that anger distorted the truth of any situation. Before he leapt to any conclusions, he needed to know what was going on. As soon as Ryoma was finished dueling on the court—and that’s what it was, because the game those two were playing was nothing short of a fight—Saeki would confront him and figure out what to do from there. 

The unfamiliar person (though there was a tickling presence in the back of Saeki’s mind whispering to him that he should recognize him) lost the game when Ryoma hit a Drive B to him and ended the match. Ryoma didn’t shake hands with the guy, but he did give him a nod of acknowledgement, which wasn’t something the freshman did often. The action only served to increase Saeki’s curiosity. 

And then Ryoma had packed up his tennis racquets and was headed his way. Saeki pushed himself off the wall and planted himself in his lover’s path. “Well,” he said. “Care to tell me what that was all about?” 

Ryoma stumbled to a halt in front of him, eyes flashing wide with shock. “Saeki! What are you doing here?”

Saeki narrowed his eyes, enjoying the way Ryoma’s face flushed. 

“Gomen. Saeki-sama, why are you here?” Ryoma asked, correcting himself before Saeki could reprimand him. 

“Syuusuke asked me to check on you. He was worried.” 

Ryoma, inexplicably, paled. “Kuso,” he said. “Saeki-sama, please don’t tell him that you saw me out here playing against Akutsu.” 

The name of the unfamiliar player slotted into place in Saeki’s mind and he folded his arms across his chest as he stared at Ryoma. “And why wouldn’t I tell him, Ryoma? After what he did—“

Ryoma didn’t hesitate. He dropped to his knees, head touching the ground. “Please, Saeki-sama. Fuji will kill him if he finds out.” 

“Get up,” Saeki said, gratified that Ryoma obeyed instantly. He didn’t want anyone to chance upon them and see such a public exchange of their dynamic. But it was too late. Akutsu was already walking towards them. 

Saeki grabbed Ryoma and placed himself firmly in-between his lover and Akutsu. “What do you want?” he asked, not bothering to moderate his voice. He would hurt Akutsu if he tried to lay a finger on Ryoma. 

Akutsu shifted his stance, wary and ready for a fight. “Echizen, is he bullying you?” he asked, keeping his attention focused on Saeki even as he ignored the question. 

“No,” Ryoma said. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” He wanted to scream at the teen to run as far away as possible, but he could tell from the tense set of Akutsu’s body that he had no intention of running away. 

Akutsu’s full attention snapped to Saeki. “Why are you manhandling him?” he asked, referring to the bruising grip Saeki had on Ryoma’s arm. “Don’t you know---

A new voice cut into the conversation. “Aa, there you are. Saeki, when I asked you to check on Ryoma, I didn’t expect it to take you two hours.” 

Saeki winced. With that tone in his voice, Syuuuske was capable of murder. He let Ryoma go and turned to face Fuji, completely ignoring the potential threat behind him. Compared to Fuji when he was using that flat, monotone voice, Akutsu was nothing more than an annoying fly. 

“Fuji-sama,” Saeki said, inclining his head and lowering his eyes. “I’m sorry I made you wait.” At this point, he was trying to say whatever he could to keep Fuji from treating him like a threat. Their relationship was new enough, in his mind, that Fuji might decide he was an obstacle. 

Ryoma, for his part, had walked straight to Fuji and planted himself in front of him. “Leave Akutsu alone,” he said. 

Saeki winced. Ryoma really didn’t have the best sense of timing. 

Fuji’s eyes narrowed. “Why?” he asked, pushing past Ryoma—who didn’t resist, thank god-to stand directly in front of Akutsu. “Didn’t I tell you that the next time you picked up a racquet, whatever the reason, that I would break you?” 

Akutsu flinched. “You did,” he said. 

Fuji leaned in so close his lips were almost touching Akutsu’s ear. “So why did you pick one up?” 

Akutsu jerked backwards, uncomfortable with the sudden closeness, but stopped himself from stepping away. To submit to Fuji so easily would be like giving the man permission to tear him apart. Instead, he forced himself to meet those deadly calm blue eyes that were focused intently on him. He swallowed hard and spoke. “I watched Echizen play Sanada and lose. Echizen made me understand what tennis was supposed to be and I didn’t like seeing him lost in the fear he felt after losing to Sanada.” 

Fuji held his gaze for a long time and Akutsu managed to maintain eye contact for about thirty more seconds before it became too much for him. When that happened, Fuji’s attention snapped to Saeki. “And you just let them play?” he asked, his tone more level than it had been when he’d approached them. 

Saeki raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never met Akutsu before today. How was I supposed to know that was who Ryoma was playing against? Besides, Akutsu’s methods might be a little rough around the edges, but they worked.” 

Fuji’s eyes narrowed. “Rough around the edges?” he asked, tone regaining that hardness. 

Saeki snorted. “Not like that. The two of them just played an intense match. There was no violence.” A thought occurred to him. “When did you get here, anyway?” 

Fuji smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. Saeki shuddered. “Right around the time Ryoma was begging you not to tell me,” Fuji said. He turned to the freshman. “I suggest you explain yourself right now.” 

Ryoma gave a small nod and started to talk, but Fuji silenced him with a look. “If you were comfortable enough to beg Saeki for a favor, you can explain yourself from there.” He pointed at the ground. 

Looking uncomfortable, but highly aware of how bad an idea it was to do anything to make Fuji any angrier than he already was, Ryoma knelt in front of Fuji. 

“Now,” Fuji said. “Tell me why I shouldn’t destroy him. And I suggest you make the reason a good one, because if I, for one second, feel like you begged Saeki to keep a secret from me without good cause, you will find out what it’s like to be punished for keeping secrets from me.” 

Ryoma shuddered. That had been delivered in monotone, which meant Fuji was suppressing the true extent of his anger. So he took a moment to compose himself and then he started to speak. “I played Sanada in an unofficial match and lost badly. That’s why I wasn’t able to play well during practice and why I seemed so out of it the rest of the day. I came to the courts to ease my mind and Akutsu ended up coming to the courts to tell me that he’d seen the match. He challenged me and managed to make me see that losing a match isn’t the end of the world and helped restore my confidence in my own ability to play the game.” 

Fuji stared down at him for a few minutes, then walked over to Akutsu. He gave a sharp nod and said, “You took a huge risk by going against my orders.” Akutsu visibly swallowed. Fuji continued, “But you did it in order to help Ryoma. I don’t think you’re stupid enough to think that going against my orders in order to help the people I care for would get you into my good graces. So what drove you to disobey me, when you know perfectly well what I’m capable of?” 

Akutsu flinched, but answered, “I respect Ryoma. I am fully prepared to accept the consequences of my actions, as I promised you I would never pick up a racquet again. But I couldn’t watch him fall apart, even if I have to pay for that.” 

“Saeki. What do you think?” Fuji asked, suddenly focusing his attention on the silver-haired teen. 

Saeki shrugged. “He had good intentions. Ryoma’s sorted out his confusion. I’d say that Akutsu’s current actions cancel out his previous ones and he should be given a blank slate.” 

Fuji arched an eyebrow. “You’re not going to beg, like Ryu-chan?” he asked, teasing him. 

Saeki rolled his eyes. “Why would I beg you to spare someone, Syu? You’re the only one who decides who you break.” 

Akutsu cleared his throat, drawing Fuji’s attention. “I’m sorry, but who is this guy? I thought he was bullying Echizen, but the way you speak to each other…

Fuji smiled. “Saeki Kojiro. He’s our other lover.” His attention snapped back to Saeki. “Did he touch you?” he asked, tone dropping. 

“No,” Saeki said, half-snorting. He waved a hand dismissively towards Akutsu. “We both know that he wouldn’t be able to take me in a fight. His only confrontation with me was verbal and it concerned Ryoma’s safety.” 

Akutsu paled as Fuji focused on him again. “Two lovers?” he asked. “God help anyone who crosses you three.” 

Fuji smirked. “You have the right idea.” He nodded to himself, coming to an abrupt decision. “Okay, this is what I’m going to do,” he said, causing Akutsu to snap to attention. “Since you helped Ryoma out at great personal risk to yourself, I’m going to lift the ban. You can play tennis again without worry I will come after you. In return, you’re going to stay out of my way and keep your hands off my lovers.” 

Fuji closed the distance between them and leaned in close, to whisper in his ear. “If you don’t abide by these terms, I will hunt you down and break every bone in your hands. Do we understand each other?” 

Saeki frowned as he watched Fuji trespass into Akutsu’s personal space. Fuji only ever got that close to someone who wasn’t sharing a bed if he was threatening them. Saeki shook his head. He was glad he wasn’t in Akutsu’s place right now. He chanced a look at Ryoma, who was kneeling with his hands clenched into fists. He felt a small amount of pity for his lover, but really, Ryoma should know better by now. 

Fuji turned back to the two of them and smiled, his mask back in place. “Ryoma-chan, get up. I let him off the hook.” 

Ryoma stood and slid his right hand into Fuji’s and his left into Saeki. “Thank you, Syuusuke,” he said, smiling. “Let’s go home.” 

Saeki shared a look with Syuusuke over Ryoma’s head. They were going to have to discuss sharing Syu’s past with their younger lover and they were going to have to do it soon.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This is a VERY dark chapter and deals with torture.

He sat huddled in the corner, knees drawn to his chest. The stone wall behind him was cold, clammy with the moisture of his sweat as he trembled. How long had he been in this hole? The cold metal shackles around his wrists and ankles allowed him a foot of movement and that, compared to what he'd been subjected to earlier, felt like freedom.

His ribs ached every time he drew air, his breathing short and shallow to keep from causing himself more pain than necessary from his cracked ribs. The blindfold was still in place, wet with tears and drying blood from the shallow cuts she'd made on his eyelids.

The last session had been horrible. He shuddered, not wanting to think about it, but unable to think of anything else. Everything in this place was under her control. If he breathed too loudly or moved too fast, she would find a reason to punish him. The normal sessions were bad, but punishment—he shivered. The last time he earned punishment, she broke every bone in his fingers. They still weren't properly healed.

How long had he been here? The days blurred together. What was his life like before this? Pain defined his existence now. He vaguely remembered his father's pity, but that didn't matter anymore. His father had given him to her.

What had he done to deserve this? A violent shudder ran through him and he almost gasped at the abrupt revelation that came to him: _I tortured someone. And I reveled in it._ He bit back a sob. He had done the same thing she was doing to him and loved it.

He wondered if she felt the same joy in it that he had, but it was a short-lived thought. He heard footsteps and tensed. They only ever belonged to her. He bit his lip so hard it started bleeding to keep from begging. If he begged, she made the sessions worse. Nothing was worth this. No pleasure was worth going through this much pain.

_I'll never do it again,_ he promised, but kept it to himself. He knew words like that would mean nothing to her. He'd tried it during their early sessions. Any time he begged or made promises, she was crueler. The less he fought her, the more lenient she was. He sobbed low in his throat. Her leniency came in the form of shredded flesh instead of broken bones, but any mercy was better than none.

He was hauled roughly to his feet after the shackles were removed from the wall. Hands landed on either side of his face and he tried not to flinch, expecting pain to follow.

Instead, the blindfold was pushed off of his eyes and he blinked unseeingly into the dim light. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust and it was painful. He'd gotten used to the dark.

She stood in front of him, her face an emotionless mask as she unlocked the shackles from around his wrists and ankles. It was the first time he'd been free from them and he fought the urge to fall to his knees and beg, fought to keep from speaking, and fought to keep his eyes on hers. There had to be something horrible waiting for him if she was changing everything now.

"You're going home," she said. "If you ever act on the urge to torture someone again, you know what lies in wait for you."

He coughed, aware that his voice was dusty with disuse. "It's really over?" he asked, flinching as her eyes narrowed. Kuso. He wasn't supposed to speak without permission. _I'm going to be punished!_

But nothing happened. "It's really over," she said. "Your father's waiting outside. He's arranged an ambulance."

He stared as he watched her walk away.

She halted mid-step and turned to him. "Keep up," she said, tone hard. "I can always change my mind."

Frightened into obedience, he kept pace with her despite the broken bones in his fingers crying out for him to attend to them. Despite the lacerations digging into the backs of his thighs, his back, and even the soles of his feet. Despite everything, he kept pace. Because nothing was keeping him here. He'd learned his lesson.

Torturing someone else meant she would torture him. He'd never do it again. He'd never let the monster see the light of day again.

His father met him outside, an ambulance waiting a few feet away. Stumbling towards it, he caught just enough of his father's conversation with her to make him want to crawl into a hole somewhere and die. His father had arranged the torture. His father had found his sick pleasure so repulsive that he'd arranged for someone to torture him. How would he ever be able to look his father in the face again? How would he ever be able to meet his own eyes in the mirror?

He felt sick as he settled into the bed in the ambulance, no longer bothering to bite back the whimpers of pain he felt every time the vehicle hit a bump.

That night, as he lay in the hospital bed, drugged to the teeth, he made a promise to himself. _I will never torture someone again. I will keep the monster inside me satisfied by breaking spirits instead of bodies. If I don't do anything, the monster will consume me and I will end up back in her hands. I can't do that. I can't go through that again._

 

**********************************************************************************************************************

Fuji woke in a cold sweat. He hadn't dreamed of those days in years. He was glad that Ryoma and Saeki had left earlier, because he didn't want them to see him after that dream.

He walked softly down the stairs and slipped a bottle of water out of the fridge. Opening it, he downed it in a few seconds. His hands were shaking as he threw the bottle away and he took a deep breath, resting his forehead against the fridge in order to gather his wits.

_Saeki's right,_ he thought. _We need to talk about this before I get any further involved in Sora's plans. If Kirihara is enough of a threat to make me have_ that _dream, I'm worried I may become a threat to my lovers._

He shivered, hating that his sadism ran so deep. If Kirihara's challenge was enough to awaken buried memories….he shuddered. _If I get too far gone, will I hurt Saeki or Ryoma? Will they trust me when they see what I keep hidden from them?_

Sudden panic set in. _My father can't know I'm having these dreams again._ He bit off a whimper. If his father found out, then he'd call _her._ And Fuji didn't want that.

_I need to find a way to control this._ Fuji closed his eyes. _I need to talk to Saeki,_ he admitted. _If anyone can help me with this, it's him. After all, he recovered from what I did to him. It wasn't as extreme as…as what I did, but it was enough._

Having decided on a course of action, Fuji went back upstairs and laid down. But he didn't sleep the rest of the night, unable to close his eyes in fear of her shadow showing up in his dreams.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**

Chapter Seventeen

**

Saeki stared out the window from his English classroom, considering the rain streaking down the glass. There would be no tennis practice after school, which was fine with him. His father would be coming back into town tonight and there was no doubt in his mind that there was going to be a "talk."

After what had happened with his mother the other day, he'd known there was only a little bit of time left to him before his father found out. He shifted uneasily in his chair, tuning the teacher out. He was more worried about his father's reaction than his teacher's displeasure if she caught him being inattentive.

The "accident," as his parents called it, had changed things. His mother had become slightly more affectionate and a large deal more anxious than before. His father, on the other hand, had become distant. The two of them used to share everything. But the accident had changed everything.

_It wouldn't have been so bad,_ Saeki thought, _if he hadn't pressed me._ Fuji's actions seven years ago had ended with Saeki laying in a hospital bed, nursing a full set of broken ribs, a broken wrist on his right side, and a broken ulna on his left. He hadn't been able to do much of anything for six weeks.

He flushed, remembering it. The nurses had offered to spoon-feed him, but he'd declined and insisted that they use intravenous means of getting him the necessary sustenance. Neither his parents nor the nurses had liked it, but he'd thrown a tantrum every time they'd come near him with the intention of spoon-feeding him.

He may not have been able to use his arms, but his feet had worked perfectly fine. Even though it had caused him considerable pain in his ribs, he'd kicked at them and the table and generally made it impossible for less than three people to hold him down. And when they had done that, he'd bitten them for their efforts. While he could suffer the indignity of a broken bone or two, he had refused to abide by their attempts to humiliate him by spoon-feeding him.

Saeki grimaced as he remembered those weeks. His parents had been horrified at what had happened to him and they'd been incredibly sympathetic. His mother had fussed over him every day and was the one who had eventually gotten the nurses to back down on the spoon-feeding issue.

But his father...he closed his eyes and shivered. The day after the accident his father had come to his hospital room and insisted that he press charges against Fuji. But Saeki hadn't understood the reasoning behind his father's insistence and that had been the beginning of the rift between them.

Every day for those six weeks, his father had come into his hospital room and asked him to press charges. Every day, Saeki had refused. And his mother had backed him up on every decision he made in the hospital. It was amazing that his parents' marriage had survived the strain of those arguments.

The bell rang and Saeki shook himself out of his trance. He threw the books he didn't need in his locker and hefted his history textbook in his right hand. With it being so near the end of the week, his homework load was lighter than usual.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned it from silent to full volume. Glancing at the screen, he started to become alarmed as he realized he'd missed ten texts from Syuusuke. He opened them, his sense of trepidation growing as the tone grew more and more urgent.  
 _  
Sae, we need to talk._

_Sae, we need to talk soon._

_Sae, why aren't you answering? We need to talk._

_Sae, really? Answer me._

_Sae, I'm starting to get annoyed._

_Sae, I hope you're not ignoring me on purpose._

_Sae, as soon as you see these messages, text me asap._

_Sae, we really need to talk. Like now._

_Saeki, you're starting to freak me out. Text me back asap._

_Saeki, I'm getting pissed. It's after school. Check your damn cell phone already. We need to talk NOW._

Saeki rolled his eyes, despite the unease in his stomach. Fuji didn't get this emotional. Something had happened. Something bad. Saeki forced himself to breathe. The last time Fuji had gotten this distraught, he'd been the one that paid the price.

Was it a good idea, now, for him to go to Syuusuke, considering their past? Saeki shook his head. They'd agreed to let the past go, but how was he supposed to banish the instinctive reaction he had to assume a fighting stance when Fuji was upset? It wasn't easy. The man had injured him severely and even seven years wasn't enough time for his body to forget the trauma of that day.

_But he's my lover now, not just my friend,_ Saeki reminded himself. _He has more self-control now than he did then. And you know how he got it._ He felt queasy as the memory of that conversation flashed through his head. He did know and it sickened him. Fuji's own father had sold him out. Maybe it had been something Syuusuke needed in order to curb his own sadistic inclinations, but Saeki doubted it. The only reason Syuusuke's sadism had taken such a dark turn to begin with was the association with his father's underground friends.

Saeki scowled. If Syuuske hadn't been associated with the underground from the time he was five, maybe he could have dealt with his sadism in a more nurturing environment. Saeki realized the absurdity of his thoughts and snorted. There was no more nurturing environment for a sadist than an underground family who thrived on violence. The problem wasn't the sadism-it was the way it was channeled.

But Syuusuke had fixed that-or had it fixed. Saeki wasn't certain how true that was. Yes, Fuji had been tortured for getting too caught up in his own sadism-but was that really the way to tame it? Wasn't it really just a matter of time before Syuusuke snapped? Saeki shook a little as he considered the implications.

_No,_ he told himself firmly. _I trust Syuusuke now. He has changed a lot in seven years. I need to give my lover the benefit of the doubt._ Saeki took a deep breath and typed a response into his phone.

_Sorry, Syu. I had my phone on vibrate. Just got your messages. What's up?_

The reply was near instantaneous. _We need to talk. Can you meet me at my house?_

_Yeah. Will Ryoma be there?_

_Not until later. He had to do something for his dad. I need to talk to you alone, though, so it works out._

Saeki swallowed. If Syuusuke needed to talk to him alone, it could only mean one thing. _What happened?_

_I don't want to talk about it over the phone._

Saeki frowned. He wished Syuusuke didn't need to control the flow of information. Then bemusement sank in. Of course Syu needed control. _Okay,_ he sent back. _I'll be there in fifteen._

No response came back, so Saeki shrugged, shut his phone, and started walking towards Fuji's house. As he walked, he couldn't help but hope that Fuji really had changed. Because if things came down to a fight like they had seven years ago, Saeki wasn't sure he could handle himself. Sure, he had the fighting skills and the superior agility-but he also had the remembrance of the trauma Fuji had inflicted on his body. That was one advantage that he wasn't sure he could overcome, if it came down to fighting.

_It won't come down to that,_ he repeated, chanting it like a mantra as he walked. _Fuji has changed. He won't hurt me like before. He won't. He won't. He won't._


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Syuusuke paced the length of his bedroom as he waited for Saeki. Ever since he'd had that dream, he'd felt an overwhelming need to talk to his old friend turned lover. An edge of panic was coloring everything and he knew his text messages weren't the only things being affected by his anxiety.

His father had warned him that his dreams coming back was a warning sign that he needed to visit her again. Syuusuke knew he couldn't take a second session of torture from her. The first had nearly killed him. It had taken him four years to piece his mind back together. Who knew how long it would take him to rebuild himself a second time?

No. She was too good at torture. Syuusuke wasn't afraid of many people. Sora, while she terrified everyone else around her, didn't frighten him. Kirihara, who had the rest of the Seigaku team on edge, didn't frighten him. Kirihara was just a challenge. But he was a strong enough challenge that Syuusuke's blood boiled with the excitement of taking him on.

But Syuusuke would drop the challenge in a heartbeat if undertaking it meant another visit from her. He would do anything imaginable to keep her as far away from him as possible. Right now, she was in America. But if Syuusuke slipped up…if his father learned about his dreams…well. That would change.

_I need to stop this,_ Syuusuke said. _Saeki is going to be here soon. If I keep panicking like this, I might hurt him. Get yourself together._ He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, holding it for a count of ten before exhaling slowly. He took another two breaths like that and calm started to build in the pit of his stomach. Just breath, Syu. You don't want to meet Saeki like this.

It took ten minutes before Fuji managed to get his breathing at an acceptable rate. Once he managed that, it took another five minutes before he was able to shake the fear from his mind. I can panic later. Right now, it's more important that I keep from doing anything that Saeki might interpret the wrong way. After the text messages I sent, he's probably freaking out.

The doorbell rang and Fuji closed his eyes, taking one last deep breath before he descended the stairs. He opened the door, drinking in the sight of Saeki standing before him. Saeki had changed out of his school uniform and into a pair of tight-fitted blue jeans with a green polo clinging to his chest. He looked distinctly uncomfortable, his hands tucked into his pockets as he looked everywhere but at Syuusuke. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," Fuji replied, pulling the silver-haired teen in for a searing kiss. Saeki melted under the assault, the tense set of his shoulders fading away. "I'm sorry I scared you."

It was testament to Saeki's inner strength that he didn't protest the statement. He had been scared and while Syuusuke's acknowledgment of that fear made him uncomfortable, he didn't shy away from the truth of it. "What did you need to talk to me about that was so urgent?" he asked.

A shadow of fear flickered through Syuusuke's eyes before he surprised it with a smile. "Let's go to my room. My parents will be back soon."

Saeki raised an eyebrow, but followed. Once they were in Syu's room, he took a seat on the edge of the bed. "So," he said.

Fuji turned so that he was looking out the window. He didn't want to see how Saeki reacted to what he had to say. He was afraid to see judgment in Saeki's eyes…afraid of what he would do if he saw criticism there.

"So," Fuji said, voice soft. "Do you remember what I told you the day I came to your house?"

A minute passed before Saeki said, "You said a lot of things that day, Syu."

Fuji acknowledged that with a slight incline of his head. "So I did. You asked me a question then."

"Yeah," Saeki said, shifting on the bed. "I remember."

"I'm having dreams about it," Fuji said, fighting a wince as he said it.

"Dreams about what?" Saeki asked. "You're not making any sense."

Fuji sighed and walked away from the window. He sat down beside Saeki and wrapped an arm around his waist, drawing the silver-haired man close to his chest. Closing his eyes, Fuji rested his chin on Saeki's shoulder. "I'm having dreams about the woman who tortured me," he said.

Saeki's body tensed, but he didn't try to pull away. "You don't have these dreams often, do you?" he asked, his tone devoid of emotion.

Fuji relaxed. When Saeki used that cold tone, it meant he was forcing all potentially judgmental thoughts away from his mind. It was a skill that Fuji envied sometimes, as he could be quick to jump to judgment. But Saeki wasn't like that. Saeki was calm and controlled. He evaluated each situation from all angles before he decided what he thought.

"No," Fuji said. "I don't." His hands clenched and his nails dug into Saeki's skin, making his lover flinch.

"Syuusuke, get your nails out of my side."

Fuji unclenched his hand, freeing his nails. "Sorry," he said. "I'm a little shaken."

"I can see that," Saeki said. "I know the dreams must be terrible, but why are you this concerned?"

Fuji shuddered. "Because I haven't had these dreams in years, Sae. The last time I had them was right after she tortured me. A week after they stopped, my father told me that if I had them again, then he'd have to arrange another session."

"What?" Saeki turned and grabbed Fuji by the shoulders, the movement so sudden it froze Fuji in place. "Your father told you he'd have you tortured again just for having a dream?"

Fuji nodded, mute. The rage in Saeki's eyes calmed and frightened him. He'd never seen Saeki express that much anger at one time, but he knew it wasn't directed at him. For the first time, he realized that Saeki was a formidable man of his own accord. He'd known Saeki possessed a great deal of inner strength—his ability to overcome what Fuji had done to him was proof enough of that. But Fuji hadn't realized that Saeki possessed emotions that ran so deep. The man was so calm and controlled all the time, it was hard to tell what he was really thinking.

"If he tries it," Saeki said. "I will kill him. I won't let that woman come near you, Syuusuke."

Fuji smiled weakly. "Thanks, Saeki. But if my dad decides to contact her, you won't be able to stop her."

Saeki raised an eyebrow. "Watch me."

Fuji laughed. "I'm sorry, Saeki. I'm glad you want to protect me. But no one can protect me from her. She's the world's top assassin. There's no way you'll be able to get near her." His tone fell flat on those last words as that truth sunk in.

Saeki drew him close, hugging him tight. "I'll do what I can, Syu. You spend so much of your time keeping me and Ryoma safe. I can't bear the thought that your own father would see you tortured just because you had a nightmare."

"A nightmare?" Fuji asked, drawing back from the hug. "Was that all it was?"

Saeki smiled sadly. "Yes, Syuusuke. It was just a nightmare. Your father lied to you about it being a sign that you needed another session. It's just another way he tethers you to him." Saeki forced himself to stop. Speaking to Fuji about his father now was a bad idea. While Saeki found Fuji senior to be a despicable man, Syuusuke was strongly attached to his dad.

Fuji frowned, wondering why Saeki had stopped. He knew his lover disapproved of his relationship with his father, but the man was his father. Even though his father had him tortured, he'd done it out of love for his son. Fuji didn't think he could ever express that sentiment properly to Saeki, because he understood why Saeki found it so reprehensible. "If it was just a nightmare," he said, "then I overreacted."

Saeki chuckled. "Yeah, but we all do that. Besides, your nightmares are darker than others. I understand why you got scared."

Fuji nodded and pulled Saeki down to lay beside him on the bed. The two of them lay in silence, each enjoying the feel of the other where their bodies joined. "Thanks, Saeki," Fuji said.

Saeki smiled and closed his eyes, grateful that the fear he'd felt earlier had been replaced with the warm contentment lying beside his lover always brought.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Saeki walked into his house, emotionally drained from dealing with Syuusuke's mini panic attack. _Though he wouldn't like me calling it that._ A wry smile graced his lips as he made his way to his room to get started on his homework. He had an essay to write for his history class and though it wasn't due until the beginning of next week, getting it out of the way early meant freeing up his weekend to spend with his lovers.

_Never thought I'd be the type to be okay with sharing a lover with someone else. But I think if it was just Syu or just Ryo, it wouldn't feel right._ He smiled to himself and drew paper to him as he sat down on his desk, preferring to write his papers longhand before typing them up. It prevented careless mistakes and his grades were incredibly important to him.

While he was a good tennis player, Saeki's career interests lay elsewhere. Tennis was a high school sport, something he intended to give up as soon as he got into a good university. What he really wanted to do, though he hadn't told Syu or Ryo about it yet, was become a lawyer. Ironic, really, considering the world his lover was part of.

He leaned forward slightly and started to write, getting absorbed in the paper. Though they had covered the bombing of Hiroshima every year since he was in 4th grade, it was a subject that still fascinated him. War was a fascinating, brutal subject and he admitted, at least to himself, that it was one subject he thoroughly enjoyed learning about.

The sound of the key turning in the lock downstairs broke Saeki's concentration and he stretched in his chair before standing up and heading downstairs. His father had been away on a business trip for nearly two weeks now and Saeki was looking forward to seeing him and dreading seeing him at the same time. Their relationship was strained, at best, but Saeki still had a lot of respect for his father. And his family frowned upon any type of social incorrectness.

So he greeted his father at the door, taking the man's briefcase and stowing it in the closet in the hallway. Once they had said the customary hellos, the two of them went into the kitchen so they could share a light snack and converse a bit after two weeks of separation.

"How did the merger go?" Saeki asked, aware of the reason for his father's business trip and the potential pitfalls that could have occurred. He opened the fridge and pulled out a coke, passing it to his father, before grabbing one for himself and popping it open.

"Great," his father said. "Very smooth, in fact. It didn't take long to get all the paperwork in order. I spent most of the trip making sure everyone understood the new policies."

Saeki smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He was aware of the tightness in his father's eyes, the tension in his shoulders, and the slightly aggressive stance he'd assumed: legs wide, hands almost—but not quite—resting on his hips. There was something his father wanted to say to him and Saeki was sure he wasn't going to like it. "That's great, Father," he said, careful to use the more respectful address.

"It is," his father said. "Kojiro. Your mother told me you've been spending time with Fuji Syuusuke while I've been away. And that you lied to her about it."

Saeki didn't flinch, but it was a near thing. Lying in this household wasn't acceptable behavior. "I didn't want to worry her," he said, voice soft. "I didn't want her to know I was spending time with Syuusuke again, because I know she hasn't recovered from what happened to me."

"And you have?" his father asked, tone calm.

"Yes," Saeki said, meeting his father's eyes squarely. "Syuusuke and I have talked about what happened that day. Both of us were confused and angry. He just struck out before I could."

His father scowled, losing his composure for a moment, before reining himself back in. "He put you in the hospital," he said, voice tight with suppressed rage. "I'd hardly call that a mere striking out."

Saeki flushed, knowing that he was underplaying the trauma and shock he'd gone through seven years ago. But Syuusuke had more than made up for that in the last couple of months. Being invited to join Syu and Ryo in a ménage-á-rois had more than made up for the pain he'd dealt with in the past.

"You lied to your mother to protect her," his father said. He'd realized that Kojiro wasn't going to say anything else about Fuji, so focusing on the actual transgression was the only option left to him. He wasn't a hard man. Forbidding Kojiro to spend time with a friend, even if he disagreed with the choice of that friend, just wasn't in him.

"Yes, sir," Saeki said. "And for the sake of honesty, you should know that I'm involved in an intimate relationship with Fuji Syuusuke and Echizen Ryoma." His voice was quiet; he wasn't trying to provoke his father, after all, just be honest with him.

His father digested the news in silence. He'd known for a long time that Kojiro was never going to end up with a woman, despite his wife's insistence that their eldest son was going to be the first one to gift them with grandchildren. Kojiro had been very straightforward the day he'd figured out he preferred men to women and had been –or seemed to have been—completely unaffected by his mother's tears or his father's distress at the news.

Saeki stood in silence, waiting for his father's response. Patience was one of the few virtues he possessed. Lying to his mother hadn't been the wisest move, but it had seemed the best one at the time. Even faced with his father's displeasure, he felt he hadn't chosen wrong when he'd lied to her.

"I see," his father said. "Your personal life is your business. Lying, no matter what the reason, is unacceptable. So I'll leave the punishment up to you. You can be grounded for the next two weeks or you can subject yourself to my belt."

Saeki winced at the announcement. Lying was one of the few transgressions that would drive his father to use corporal punishment. "May I have some time to think about it, sir?" he asked, keeping his tone respectful.

"Five minutes."

Saeki winced. "Thank you, sir," he said, drawing his phone out of his pocket and sending a quick text to Syuusuke. _I'm in trouble for lying to my mother. Father says I can be grounded two weeks or take his belt. What do you want me to do?_

Thirty seconds later, Syu's text came back. _Only I get to discipline you like that. Ask your father if I can do it in his stead._

Saeki's eyes widened as he read the text, his fingers trembling. Surely Syuusuke knew that his father wouldn't agree with something like that, considering their past. But he'd agreed to follow Syuusuke's instructions, to submit to the man without complaint or hesitation. So he turned to his father and waited until the man's attention was focused on him.

"What is it, Kojiro?"

"I told you that I was in a relationship with Fuji Syuusuke," Saeki said, taking a deep breath to keep himself to remain calm. "But what I didn't mention is that it is a discipline-based relationship with him at the helm." He knew his father would understand the term, as there had been hints to him having experimented with those sorts of relationships when he was younger.

His father raised an eyebrow. "You voluntarily agreed to be part of a discipline-based relationship?" he asked, surprised enough that he momentarily forgot how much he hated Fuji Syuusuke for what he'd done to his son so many years ago.

Saeki flushed. "I did. And he's told me to ask you if he can discipline me in your stead." Heat crawled up his neck, but he somehow managed not to stutter.

His father sat back in his chair, considering the matter before him. While Fuji Syuusuke had harmed his son in a fit of rage, he knew Kojiro well enough to know that he would never have entered into any relationship—especially a discipline-based one—with a man he was afraid of. Kojiro would have considered every angle before agreeing to it, even if the decision had seemed instantaneous to everyone else. "I'll agree to it, on one condition," his father said.

"Which is?" Saeki asked, barely managing to keep himself from fidgeting.

"He comes here today and administers it in front of me. While I trust you to make your own decisions, I need to see firsthand that he is a changed man."

"Yes, sir," Saeki said. He dug the phone back out of his pocket and winced at the text he read there. _I won't go as easy on you as your father if you choose the belt. He has always been soft on you._

There was a truth in that Saeki didn't want to acknowledge. He texted back, _Father said yes, as long as you do it here where he can see it. He still doesn't trust you won't hurt me._

_I'll be there in twenty minutes. And Sae?_

_Hai, Syu-sama?_

_What did you lie about?_

Saeki winced, but replied honestly. _I told my mother I was spending time with a friend when I was spending time with you and Ryoma._ He suppressed the urge to add that he'd only lied to protect her. Syuusuke would appreciate that even less than his father had.

_Does our relationship shame you so much?_

_No!_ Saeki replied. The very idea that Syu thought that he might find their relationship shameful sent tendrils of regret spiraling through his stomach. _No, of course not, Syu. I just didn't want her to worry._

_Keeping it secret from her wasn't your decision to make._

_I know. Gomen, Fuji-sama._ Saeki closed his phone, knowing that Syuusuke wouldn't text him again. They'd said everything that needed saying. Now all he could do was wait for his lover to show up.

"So, what did he say?" his father asked.

"He'll be here in twenty minutes, Father."

"Did he have anything else to say?"

Saeki winced. He wanted to say no, but considering he was already in trouble for lying, figured that being honest was the best route for him to take. "Aa," he said. "Syu doesn't think you're a hard enough disciplinarian."

That tore a wry chuckle from his father. "That's probably true," the man said. "I don't get to see you or your brother often enough to want to be too hard on you. I'm guessing Fuji had something to say about your dishonesty as well?"

Saeki flushed. His father was so discerning sometimes it disoriented him. "Yes, sir. He said that it wasn't up to me to decide who can and cannot know about our relationship, as that is his responsibility. He said that lying about it to Mother equated to hiding it from her out of a sense of shame, rather than a sense of protection, and that I had no business being in a relationship like this one if I was ashamed of it."

And while Syuusuke hadn't said more than a few sentences, Saeki had read between the lines, as he'd always done. The two of them had never needed more than a few words to express a world of feelings.

"It sounds like Fuji has really matured since that incident."

Saeki nodded. "He has."

The two of them fell silent, sitting in a tense silence that didn't ease, but didn't get worse either. Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang and Saeki began to stand up, intending to answer the door, when his father's hand on his arm stopped it. "I'll get it," his father said. "I want to see for myself how mature Fuji Syuusuke has become."

Saeki settled back into his seat to wait while his father went to meet Syuusuke at the door.

Saeki's father opened the door, coming face to face with Fuji Syuusuke. "Good evening, Fuji-kun."

"Good evening, Saeki-san," Syuusuke said, standing straight with his shoulders back and his hands by his side. It was an inviting posture that said, _look, I'm safe,_ which was a far cry from what Saeki's father had been expecting.

"Kojiro is waiting for us in the kitchen. But before we go in there, I'd like to ask you a couple questions." He stepped back, letting the high school senior enter his home.

"Happy to oblige, Saeki-san. What would you like to know?"

"Is there any risk at all that what happened between you and my son seven years ago will happen again?" There was no way to be subtle about that and Saeki's father had no intention of being tactful about his son's safety.

"No, there's not," Fuji said, his voice even. There was no hint of anger at the implied accusation in his tone. "Kojiro means the world to me and I would never hurt him like I did when I was ten. I spent two years learning how to manage my anger at the hands of a very skilled woman and I have no intention of regressing to the point I need her help again." That his voice didn't shake surprised Fuji, but the reasons for that were his own.

"I see," Saeki-san said.

"You said you had a couple questions, Saeki-san?"

"Aa. What are your intentions concerning my son?"

Fuji smiled. "I intend to treat him like my lover, since that is what he is, and I also plan to discipline him when he needs it. That's all."

"Okay," Saeki-san said, taking a moment to digest it. "Then let's go to the kitchen. I'm sure Kojiro is anxious to get the discipline over with."

Fuji shrugged. "I've never seen Kojiro anxious, Saeki-san. He is highly aware of every action he takes and the consequences they will have. So this outcome has certainly figured into his mental calculations, even though he's not said anything to suggest that."

Saeki-san chuckled. "It sounds like you know my son very well."

The two of them entered the kitchen, where Saeki was still sitting at the table. When he saw Syuusuke, he pushed his chair back and walked over to his lover. Knowing that dropping into a full kneel right know would be considered high drama, he chose to incline his head slightly instead. "Good evening, Syu-san."

Fuji made a conscious decision to focus on his lover, doing his best to ignore the presence of Saeki-san behind him. He drew Saeki into a brief hug. "Hey," he said, speaking softly into his lover's ear. "Drop your jeans and underwear and brace yourself against the table."

Saeki sucked in a small breath of air, which caused him to sound like he was hissing—the sound, in turn, made him wince, because he knew how it sounded and he didn't want Syu to think he was complaining about the punishment. Because he wasn't. He knew he deserved it. Forcing himself not to dwell on that or the fact that his father was observing from the back of the room, he did as Syuusuke said and braced himself against the table, his jeans and underwear bunched around his thighs.

Fuji unthreaded his belt from around his waist and cracked it a couple times in the air to test the swing. Nodding once to himself, he let it fly, landing solid hits on Saeki's upturned bottom. He didn't give his lover any time to recover between licks and the one time that Saeki put a hand back to try to protect himself, he discovered how painful a belt across the hand was. After that, he kept his hands firmly on the table, gripping the edge as hard as he dared.

Fuji didn't stop at a set number. He didn't count them. He just watched Saeki tremble under the onslaught, watching his lover's shoulders start to shake. He felt a moment of regret when he caught Saeki's hand with the belt, but didn't hesitate to continue the spanking. Lying was unacceptable. Saeki knew that. He'd accepted the consequences as soon as he'd opened his mouth and told his mother that he was spending time where he wasn't.

Fuji stopped right when Saeki didn't think he could take another stroke without bolting from the room. Sniffling, he pulled up his jeans, unable to prevent a yelp as the rough fabric came into contact with his tender flesh. He rubbed hard a few times, trying to diminish the lingering sting from the spanking. Fuji pulled Saeki to him, hugging him hard. "I'm proud of you, Sae. You took that well. Remember this the next time you decide to lie."

"Hai, Syu-sama. I won't forget."

Fuji noticed, but didn't comment, that Saeki hadn't said he wouldn't lie again. He smiled, well over the distress he'd felt earlier in the day. That conversation with Saeki about his dream had been a great gift. It had lifted a heavy burden off his shoulders and he was starting to feel more confident about dealing with Kirihara without becoming the monster he knew was lurking just under the surface.


	20. Chapter Twenty

Ryoma gave Saeki a knowing smirk as he walked into Syuusuke's bedroom. "Finally earned a spanking, Sae-san?" he asked, teasing.

"Mm," Saeki said. He crossed the room to where Ryoma sat on the edge of Syu's bed and stopped about a foot in front of him.

Ryoma leaned back, rested his weight on his hands, and waited.

Saeki grinned. He leaned forward and slid his hands under Ryoma's shirt, grabbed his lover's nipples and twisted each one, hard, in opposite directions.

Ryoma gasped, the sound turning into a moan as Saeki didn't release his harsh hold. He dug his nails into the blanket underneath him, struggling not to pull away.

Saeki twisted Ryoma's nipples in the other direction and smiled tolerantly as his lover's eyes fluttered closed. "Keep your eyes open, Ryoma."

"Hai, Saeki-san." Ryoma forced his eyes open and focused his gaze on Saeki. Desire burned in his lover's eyes; the strength of it pulled another moan from Ryoma's lips. "Please," he said, with no idea what he was asking for.

Saeki closed the distance between them. He nudged Ryoma's legs with his knee and Ryoma wrapped his legs around him. Saeki pressed himself into the heat of his lover's body, grinding his cock against Ryoma's.

Ryoma groaned at the contact, wanting more but not daring to try and wrestle control from Saeki. He wanted to use his legs, which were loosely wrapped around Saeki, to pull the man even closer to him, but he knew from experience that the moment he did that, Saeki would pull away entirely.

Ryoma fisted the blanket behind him, struggling not to take more than he was being given. "Please," he said, the word turning into a moan.

Saeki ground against him, both of them still fully clothed, and twisted Ryoma's nipples hard. Leaning down so his face was at the same level of Ryoma's, he slid his tongue between Ryoma's lips. He licked his way around his lover's mouth, pleased when Ryoma kept his own tongue still.

Ryoma whimpered low in his throat when Saeki assaulted his mouth. Learning to be passive while he was being kissed had taken him a long time, but Saeki refused to kiss him at all if he didn't submit properly. While Syuusuke enjoyed battling him for dominance during a kiss, Saeki wouldn't put up with it. And Ryoma loved being kissed. He loved the way a tongue felt in his mouth. He loved how intimate the act was. But Saeki had denied him that intimacy for weeks on end until he'd learned to be passive while they kissed.

Ryoma trembled under the onslaught, wanting to move but dreading the consequences of doing so. He didn't want it to end.

Saeki slid his tongue from Ryoma's mouth and pulled his lover's shirt up so that his nipples were exposed. He cupped one hand around Ryoma's throat and grabbed the fleshy area around Ryoma's abandoned nipple with his mouth. Without warning, he bit down, hard enough to leave indentations in his lover's skin but not hard enough to break it.

"Fuck!" Ryoma yelled. He'd expected it, but the sharp pain made his back arch and he involuntarily tightened his legs around Saeki. When that happened, his lover stilled on top of him.

Saeki frowned at him. "That's one," he said.

Ryoma trembled. "I'm sorry, Saeki-sama," he said. Please don't stop, please don't stop, please don't stop. Ryoma forced his legs to go slack and he fought not to beg out loud; it wouldn't do any good with that look in Saeki's eyes.

Saeki smiled and resumed torturing Ryoma. He bit down hard on the same place and twisted Ryoma's other nipple as he ground his cock into his lover's. Ryoma groaned and Saeki felt his lover's thighs tense around him, but Ryoma managed to keep himself from pulling Saeki towards him. "Good boy," he said.

"I see you've started without me," Syuusuke said.

Saeki turned his head and grinned at Syu, who stood just inside the entrance to his room. "You're done, then?"

Syuusuke nodded. "I've set everything I needed to in motion."

"Care to join us, then?" Saeki asked. "Ryoma is being deliciously well-behaved today."

Syuusuke grinned. "I'm sure he is. It's only been what? Two weeks since the last time he came?"

"Three, Syu-sama," Ryoma said, gasping at a particularly vicious thrust of Saeki's hips.

"Perhaps we should make it four," Saeki suggested.

Ryoma shuddered underneath him. "Please no," he begged.

Syuusuke frowned. "I thought you said he was well-behaved," he said.

"I may have spoken too soon."

Ryoma trembled. "I'm sorry, Fuji-sama, Saeki-sama. If you wish to deny me another week, that is your right." He whimpered as he lost all contact from Saeki as his lover stood up.

Syuusuke watched as Ryoma forced himself to stillness by bunching the blanket into his firsts, fighting the urge to follow Saeki up in order to reclaim contact from him.

"Look at you," Syuusuke said. "Your body is begging to be touched. I bet every touch is like fire to you right now."

Ryoma whimpered. "Hai, Syu-sama, it is."

Syuusuke grinned. "Sae, undress him. Make him struggle to stay still."

"With pleasure," Saeki said, voice husky with desire. "Lift your arms, Ryoma." When the freshman obeyed, Saeki slid the shirt slowly up Ryoma's arms, inching it off and leaning down to claim a kiss at the same time. Ryoma keened low in his throat; staying still while his arms were in the air was almost impossible.

Once the shirt was removed, Saeki slid his hands down to Ryoma's pants. "You can put your hands down now," he said. He slipped the button on Ryoma's jeans with practiced ease and grabbed the edges of his lover's pants and boxers. "Lift your hips."

Saeki slid the pants and boxers down to Ryoma's knees and crouched in front of his lover. He leaned forward and slid Ryoma's cock into his mouth in agonizing slowness. He pushed the pants down to Ryoma's ankles and off him while twirling his tongue around the base of his lover's cock.

"Fuck!" Ryoma said above him, panting with the effort of staying still. Saeki's mouth wrapped around his cock was always an intense experience; he wanted to thrust but he knew that would guarantee he'd lose any chance he might have to cum.

"Enough," Syuusuke said, voice rough with desire.

Saeki stepped back from Ryoma at the order and waited.

"Get undressed, Sae," Syuusuke said. "I want to watch Ryoma ride you while I grind against him, knowing that he can't get off."

"Hai, Syu-sama," Saeki said, peeling off his clothes. He opened the drawer where they kept the lube and slicked himself up, then handed the tube to Ryoma. "Prepare yourself," he said.

Ryoma whimpered and took the tube. He hated how turned on it made him to have to prepare himself for his lovers. He turned over on the bed, bracing himself on his knees, and reached behind himself with one hand. Spread wide for his lovers, he smeared the lube the best he could on his own, using a liberal amount.

"You're so beautiful like that," Saeki said. "So openly debauched for us." He sat down on the edge of the bed.

"He really is," Syuusuke said. "Ryoma, impale yourself on Saeki's cock."

"Hai, Syu-sama." Ryoma moved off the bed and went to Saeki. He slowly lowered himself onto his lover's cock, legs trembling with the effort it took to keep himself standing. He gasped as Saeki's cock hit the tight ring of muscles and forced himself to go lower. Forced himself all the way down until he could feel Saeki's thighs underneath his. It was only then that Saeki wrapped his arms around Ryoma's waist; only then that his lover began to help him support his weight.

Syuusuke, who'd undressed himself as he watched his lovers, moved over to them and placed himself in-between Ryoma's legs, grinding their cocks together. The motion drew a whimper from Ryoma and he grinned. "Remember, Ryoma," he said. "You can't cum from this."

"Hai, Syu-sama," Ryoma said, breathless.

Syuusuke drew Saeki into a kiss across their lover's head. "You can set the pace, Saeki. I want you to cum at least two times by the end of the night."

Saeki grinned. "I think I can manage that," he said. He lifted his hips and slammed into Ryoma, setting a brutally fast pace. That pace forced Ryoma into a fast grind against Syuusuke's cock.

Ryoma trembled, moaning from the onslaught of pleasure coming from two directions. Every thrust felt like two, as Saeki's deep penetration forced his cock to grind against Syuusuke's. He wanted to come so badly, but it was forbidden him and he knew that at the pace his lovers had set it would be all too easy to disobey them and cum when he wanted.

"Please please please," Ryoma begged, incoherent with need. "Fuck I'm close," he said.

His lovers stilled themselves immediately and he keened with the loss, panting with the effort it took to pull himself back from the brink.

Saeki and Syuusuke waited a full minute before they resumed their brutal pace and Ryoma whimpered at how far away his orgasm seemed. And at how close it could be, if only they'd let him have it.

Saeki thrust hard a final time and came deep inside him. Syuusuke smiled at the blissed out expression on Saeki's face, then chuckled at the contrast between Saeki's expression and Ryoma's pained one. "Good job, Ryoma," he said. He pulled away from Ryoma and sat down beside Saeki on the bed. "Now use your mouth and get me off."

"Hai, Syu-sama." Ryoma slid off Saeki's cock with a wet plop and knelt between Syuusuke's legs. He took Syu's cock in his mouth and deep-throated him, sucking hard. Using his tongue in combination with the sucking, he brought Syuusuke off in under a minute, then knelt back with his hands folded behind him.

Syuusuke nudged Ryoma's hard cock with a foot. "How does it feel to be the only one without relief?" he asked.

"It hurts, Syu-sama," Ryoma said, swallowing.

"It looks like it hurts," Syuusuke said. And it did. Ryoma's cock was red, swollen with need. "I like how you look right now."

The three of them spent the next ten minutes in silence. Syuusuke and Saeki reovered from their first orgasm, while Ryoma struggled to keep his hands off his cock.

"Ready for round two?" Syuusuke asked.

Saeki grinned. "Of course."

"This time, Sae, I want you to ride me. And Ryoma, you'll be receiving Sae's cock on each thrust. We've both already gotten off, so I'm not going to rush and you aren't allowed to speed us up. I expect your throat to be raw by the time we finish, understand?"

"Hai, Syu-sama."

Syuusuke lathered himself with lube and prepared Saeki to receive him. Sitting up, he pulled Saeki in front of him and guided his lover onto his cock slowly. Once Saeki was situated, he motioned Ryoma forward. Ryoma took Saeki's cock into his mouth, wrapping his lips around his teeth, and relaxed his throat.

Syuusuke smiled at the scene in front of him. Ryoma, aching from denied orgasm and his skin flush with need, painted an obscene picture as he waited for Saeki's cock to make its way down his throat.

Syuusuke set a languid pace, enjoying the slow build-up of tension in his stomach. He ran his hands across Sae's body and Ryoma's face, pulling Sae into lazy kisses every so often. He watched as Ryoma struggled to stay still, watched the build-up of frustration in his younger lover's body as tears that pooled in his eyes.

Thirty minutes passed before Syuusuke felt the urgency to cum begin to build. Ryoma, at this point, was desperate, and tears were streaming silently down his face. The sight took Syuusuke's breath away. That pained expression was delicious. He increased his pace, seeking release with a single-minded relentlessness. "Come with me, Saeki," he said.

"Hai, Syu-sama," Saeki said.

The fast pace he'd set drove Syu over the edge and Saeki came down Ryoma's throat at the same time, his muscles clenching around Syu's cock and milking him for all he was worth.

"That was amazing," Saeki said. He brushed hair out of Ryoma's eyes. "Did you swallow it all?" he asked.

Ryoma nodded. "Hai, Sae-sama," he said, voice hoarse.

"And your throat is raw, like I said," Syuusuke said. "You've been so good today, Ryoma. I think I'm going to let you cum, after all."

Ryoma's eyes filled with desperate hope that took Syu's breath. "Really, Syu-sama?"

"Yes," Syuusuke said. "You've earned it."

"Thank you, Syu-sama," Ryoma said.

"Saeki."

"Hai, Syu-sama?"

"Use your mouth and get him off. I think he deserves your talent."

Saeki smiled. "Sounds good to me. Ryoma, come up here so Syu can hold you while I get you off."

Ryoma didn't have to be told twice. He scrambled onto the bed and molded himself against Syuusuke's side. Syu chuckled and hooked his arm behind Ryoma, pulling his young lover closer to him. He turned his head and drew Ryoma into a long, lazy kiss, tasting Saeki's cum on his lips.

Ryoma whimpered at the contact and Saeki chose that moment to slide Ryoma's cock into his mouth. Ryoma's back arched at the contact and he moaned into Syuusuke's mouth.

Saeki could have been merciful and gotten him off quickly, but Saeki was every bit as sadistic as Syuusuke. He edged Ryoma over and over, forcing their young lover to an incoherent babble of need.

"Please," Ryoma begged. "Please please please please please please please."

Saeki drew back every time Ryoma's balls tightened, enjoying the mewling sounds that came from Ryoma's lips when he was denied yet again.

He spent a good hour torturing Ryoma, bringing him to the brink over and over. He knew it was cruel when Syuusuke had promised to let Ryoma come, but it wasn't too much for Ryoma to handle. They had safewords for a reason.

He wanted to keep teasing Ryoma, but his tongue was starting to cramp. So he edged Ryoma one last time and then deep-throated him, sucking hard, and the next time Ryoma hit the edge, he let him go over it. When he came, Saeki swallowed his lover's cum and drew back with a smug grin.

"That," Ryoma said, panting with the effort of speaking after such a mind-blowing orgasm, "was pure evil, Saeki-sama. You guys are so mean to me."

Saeki chuckled. "Yeah, but you love it."

Ryoma smiled. "I do. I love you both. What you do to me makes me crazy."

Syuusuke laughed. "Love you, too, brat. Don't expect to cum like that anytime soon, though."

Saeki grinned. "Four weeks?" he asked.

Ryoma groaned and covered his face in his hands. "Fine," he said, begrudgingly. "Four weeks."

Saeki laughed. "I love you, Ryoma. Now let's go to sleep."

Syuusuke smiled. Having his lovers cuddled up to him after sex—well, there was just nothing better.


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

As the rescheduled match with Rikkaidai grew closer, nightmares became a regular occurrence in Fuji’s life. So regular, in fact, that he’d stopped inviting his lovers to spend the night. Not because he didn’t want his lovers with him but because he was no longer sleeping at his own house. 

Fuji knew that if his father found out about the dreams, he would be sent back to that woman. To avoid that, he’d moved himself into Tony’s apartment without offering an explanation, and Tony hadn’t asked for one. 

With the nightmares growing more vivid by the night, Fuji knew he was going to have to tell Ryoma about his past. The idea of Ryoma discovering just how deep his dark desires really ran terrified him, and he couldn’t get the image of Ryoma leaving him out of his head. He knew Saeki would stay with him even if Ryoma didn’t, but that wasn’t a consolation to Fuji.

Saeki would always be an integral part of his life, but he couldn’t offer Fuji the same acceptance that Ryoma could. Ryoma was the first man who had seen the darkness in Fuji and, rather than accepting it, had embraced it. Ryoma cherished his sadism the way Fuji treasured Ryoma’s masochism, and he was afraid that if Ryoma knew the truth about the torture he had been forced to undergo in order to tame the deeper levels of his sadism that Ryoma would leave. 

Fuji had hoped the nightmares would ease as he put his plans to break Kirihara’s spirit into motion, but that hadn’t happened. Instead, it seemed that everything he did just made the nightmares worse. Nothing eased the terror he felt when he slid under the covers at night, knowing that he was going to relive being tortured in his dreams. 

He didn’t understand why the nightmares were surfacing now, so many years after the torture had occurred. Fuji was scared that his father was right, afraid that having the dreams meant he needed to go back to that place and have his dark desires cowed into submission for another few years. Fuji didn’t want his life to be like that – a life where he had to be tortured to keep control of his sadism every few years was no sort of life at all. Fuji just didn’t know what he needed to do to stop the dreams. 

And Saeki had noticed the bags under Fuji’s eyes and had voiced concern, concern that Fuji had brushed aside. He wasn’t ready to let Saeki know how bad the dreams were, even though he was fairly certain Saeki already knew. 

Fuji sighed, pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and headed out the door. He had arranged to meet with his lovers in the park. Perhaps a light workout would be enough to get his mind off the nightmares. 

When he arrived at the park, Saeki and Ryoma were already waiting for him. They waved him over to a picnic table. Fuji sat down beside Ryoma and pulled the freshman onto his lap. The fact that Ryoma didn’t voice any complaints was a testament to Saeki’s skills as a disciplinarian. Ryoma rarely complained these days, although he was still snarky. 

“You look like shit,” Saeki said. 

Fuji glared at him. “Hello to you too,” he said. 

Saeki rolled his eyes. “Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed? Fuji, you look like you haven’t slept in a week.” 

Ryoma twisted around in Fuji’s arms to get a better look at his lover. “He’s right, Syu, you look terrible.” 

“I just had a rough night,” Fuji said, willing his lovers to drop this line of conversation. 

Saeki frowned. “Ryoma, can you give us a few minutes?” 

Ryoma’s eyes narrowed. “Is there something you need to say that I’m not allowed to hear?” His voice was tight. 

Saeki nodded. “It’s about what happened in the past.”

“You mean it’s about the stuff Fuji still refuses to tell me,” Ryoma said. 

Saeki winced. “Yeah.” 

“Fine,” Ryoma said. He went to stand, but Fuji held him in place. “Let go,” he snapped. He wasn’t in the mood to be treated like a plaything. Not when Fuji was still keeping secrets from him. 

Fuji’s arms trembled as he pulled Ryoma closer to him. “No,” he said. “Stay, please.” He needed to tell Ryoma, and he was tired of putting it off. If Ryoma left, Fuji knew he’d never recover, but if he never told Ryoma, then he would lose him anyway. 

“Unless you’re asking me to stay so you can tell me what you’ve been keeping from me, I suggest you let go of me right now,” Ryoma said, voice hard. “I am tired of being kept in the dark.” 

Fuji smiled into the crook of Ryoma’s neck. His lover definitely had a backbone made of steel. “I’m going to tell you,” he said. “So stay, please.” 

Ryoma relaxed back into Fuji’s grasp. “Okay,” he said. “I’m listening.” 

Fuji took a deep breath and caught Saeki’s eye, reassured by the affirmation he found there. “I told you about America and the man I interrogated, and I know Tony gave you all the details. What I didn’t tell you is what happened next.” 

Ryoma twisted around in Fuji’s lap so he could make eye contact. “Next?” he prompted. 

“Until I interrogated Jason, I had never hurt someone to the limit of what they could endure. I never realized how intoxicated I would become by holding the power of life and death in my hands. For weeks after that interrogation ended, I would dream about crushing bones with my bare hands. I would wake up with my sheets wet.” Fuji couldn’t hold Ryoma’s gaze, afraid he would find horror in his eyes. 

Ryoma poked him in the ribs. “I already know you’re a sadist, Syu. I’m not surprised that you got off thinking about hurting people.” 

That startled a laugh out of Fuji. “You amaze me, Ryoma.” 

Ryoma shrugged. “Is that it? What you were so afraid to tell me?” 

Fuji shook his head. “No, there’s more.” He took another deep breath, steeling himself. “At first, the dreams only happened at night. Eventually, though, they started invading my everyday life. The desire to hurt people crept into my thoughts, and I found myself wanting to break the bones of strangers who annoyed me. It wasn’t until a child, no more than five, angered me by singing too loudly that I realized I was having trouble controlling my urge to hurt others.” 

“Did you hurt the kid?” Ryoma asked. 

“No, of course not,” Fuji said. “But I wanted to, and my desire to hurt him terrified me. Instead, I went to my father. I told him what had happened with Jason and about the way my dreams were spilling over into my waking life. I told him that I was afraid I was going to lose control of myself because I had enjoyed hurting Jason – enjoyed it to the point I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from hurting someone else, someone who didn’t deserve it.” 

“And did you?” Ryoma prompted, his tone reserved. Whatever had happened, it was in the past. Surely Syuusuke could see that. 

“No, I didn’t,” Fuji answered. “My dad intervened. He sent me to Hayashi Sayuri.” 

“Hayashi?” Ryoma asked. “Any relation to Hayashi Sora?” 

Fuji nodded. “Hayashi Sayuri is Sora’s aunt. They are both assassins.” 

“Okay. Why did your dad send you to an assassin? That seems counterintuitive.” 

Fuji couldn’t help it; he laughed. And if the laugh was a bit hysterical, well, no one could blame him. “He didn’t send me to her to have her teach me how to kill,” Fuji said. “My father sent me to her to have me tortured.” In response to that, Ryoma stiffened in his arms. This was it; this was the moment that Ryoma decided to walk away from him. 

When Ryoma spoke, his tone had dropped three octaves. “He did what?” he asked. 

Despite himself, Fuji shivered. He’d never heard so much anger and hatred rolled into Ryoma’s tone, and he was unspeakably relieved that it wasn’t directed towards him. Fuji swallowed and forced himself to speak past the lump of emotion in his throat. “My father sent me to her to have me tortured. He told me that if I couldn’t learn to control my sadism, I would be better off dead. So, he offered me a choice. I could learn to control my sadism under Hayashi Sayuri’s tutelage, or I could kill myself. I didn’t know at the time that Hayashi’s lessons were going to involve torture.” 

“What did she do to you?” Ryoma asked, wrapping his arms around Syuusuke’s waist. He could tell his lover needed support to get through this, and there was no way he was leaving Fuji alone to deal with this. 

Fuji flinched. “She made me tell her everything I did to Jason and then she taught me how all of it felt in excruciating detail. She would interrogate me the way I did Jason, let me heal, and then do it over again. For two years, she made me relive every torment I inflicted on him, and I swore at the end of those two years to never hurt anyone like that again.” 

“And you never have,” Saeki said, speaking up from across the table. 

“No, I haven’t,” Fuji said. “Instead, I found other ways to express my sadism through manipulation. I never expressed my sadism physically after that, not until you came along, Ryoma. You’re the first person I’ve ever hurt since Jason, and I’m scared that I may not be able to control myself.” 

Ryoma rolled his eyes and flicked Fuji’s forehead. “First of all, I’m not Jason. I’m not some sleazy slave trader that deserves to be tortured, so the idea that you could ever do to me what you did to him is ridiculous. Secondly, I like being hurt, but I won’t ever let you go too far with me. Neither will Saeki. I know what too far looks like, remember? If I ever think you’re getting close to that line, I’ll tell you. And if you ever cross it, I’ll walk out the door and never come back, no matter how much I love you.” 

Saeki grinned at Fuji. “I told you he could handle it.” 

“Yeah, you did. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you, Ryu-chan.” 

Ryoma sighed. “I’m not going to say everything’s fine, Syu, because it isn’t fine that it took you so long to tell me, but I’m glad that you did finally tell me. I don’t like it when people keep secrets from me, and I don’t understand why you felt the need to keep this.” 

Fuji swallowed. “I was afraid that if I told you, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me. I was afraid my sadism might run too deep for you, if you knew exactly how much I enjoy hurting people.” 

“You’re an idiot, Syu,” Ryoma said, tone affectionate. “I fell in love with you because you’re a sadist. Why would I run away from you because you enjoy causing pain?” 

Saeki cleared his throat, gaining the attention of his lovers. “Now that’s cleared up,” he said. “Want to tell us why you look like you haven’t slept in a week?” 

Fuji sighed. “I’m having nightmares about being tortured.” 

“Again?” Saeki asked. 

Fuji gave a short nod. “I’ve been having them since Sora called in her debt, but they’ve become more frequent the closer I come to fulfilling it.” 

Saeki frowned. “You’re not doing anything to hurt anyone physically, though, so it doesn’t make sense that they would increase.” 

“Sure it does,” Ryoma said, pulling his hat down when both of his lovers stared at him. “Che. It makes sense that Syu is having nightmares when the debt he owes is to someone in the Hayashi family. It’s probably because he’s unconsciously afraid that if he fails to fulfill the debt he owes Hayashi Sora that she will say something to her aunt, and yeah. I’ll let you guys fill in the rest.” 

Fuji blinked. That made a twisted kind of sense. “When did you get smart?” he asked, ruffling Ryoma’s hair. 

Ryoma grinned at him. “Made made dane.” 

For that, Fuji tickled him until he was laughing so hard his laughter turned into sobs. “Yeah,” he said. “You’re definitely a brat.” 

“Mm,” Ryoma agreed. “But I’m your brat.”


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

It was the day of the fateful match between Seigaku and Rikkaidi and Fuji was more than ready to take on Kirihara. After the man had injured Tachibana and openly challenged Fuji...yeah, Fuji was more than ready. To top it off, he had inside information that would pretty much guarantee that he won the match. Whether he succeeded in breaking Kirihara through tennis or not didn’t matter - it was what he had planned for after the match ended that mattered the most. 

Anticipation thrummed through him, and, when it was finally time for Fuji to face Kirihara on the court, he wasn’t surprised when the Rikkaidai player turned to taunts. 

“Hey, what was the shortest match of this tournament?” Kirihara called out, never taking his eyes off the Seigaku player. 

“Thirteen minutes.” That had come from one of Kirihara’s teammates. 

Kirihara turned to Fuji with a smirk. “Then I’ll finish this match in less than that,” he said, voice smug. 

Fuji fought the urge to roll his eyes. It was only the knowledge of what awaited Kirihara after the match ended that kept Fuji’s annoyance at bay. 

When Kirihara slammed the tennis ball down into Fuji’s knee, however, it was much more difficult to maintain his composure. Every nerve in his leg cried out in pain, but Fuji refused to give in. He had endured far worse torture than this, and far worse torture awaited him if he failed the Sora family. So, Fuji clenched his teeth around the pain and forced himself to his feet. 

The second time it happened, standing up was more difficult. Being injured purposely by a man he was going to crush infuriated him. Fuji let his anger pull him to his feet. 

The third time it happened, Fuji wasn’t sure he could stand up. But then Tachibana’s voice came from the stands, urging him to his feet. That alone may not have been enough. But when Kirihara served a ball straight at Tachibana, Fuji snapped. No one got away with trying to hurt his friends. No one. 

It was rare for Fuji to play at full strength - he rarely ever felt the need. But with this, with Tachibana’s cruelty, the need existed. So Fuji let his true strength, his true genius, shine through his tennis, and he crushed Kirihara. When he served a ball that scared Kirihara into injuring himself and Kirihara became convinced that Fuji was returning to him what Kirihara had done to others, Fuji saw no need to disabuse him of the notion. At the end of the game, when it was obvious Kirihara thought that Fuji was going to serve a ball that would end up hitting him in the face, Fuji used one of his counters and grabbed the ball out of the air as it bounced back into his court. “Tennis must not be used as a tool to breed hatred,” he said, though few would realize it was more to himself than to Kirihara. His anger at Kirihara was so strong that he was struggling to control himself, and he knew that no one except his lovers would recognize that. 

Once off the court, his teammates asked him if he needed to go to the hospital, but he refused. Fuji wanted to see Echizen beat Sanada. His knee would heal. And Echizen, true to form, beat Sanada, which meant Seigaku could celebrate their victory over Rikkaidai when they got back home. 

Fuji had something more important to take care of. He spotted Sanada near the edge of the court and burst into a run. He knew the Rikkaidai vice captain was on his way to see how the captain’s surgery was going, and Fuji had no time to waste. “Sanada,” he yelled, right when he was in the man’s hearing range. 

Sanada whipped his head around at the sound of his name and started to glare, then stopped dead in his tracks and waited for Fuji to catch up, his eyes seeking the ground. “Hai, Fuji-san?” 

Fuji smiled grimly. “You’re going to the hospital, ne?” 

Sanada hesitated, but the dark look Fuji gave him quickly loosened his tongue. “Hai, Fuji-san. I was going to see about the captain’s surgery, if that’s okay?” 

“I’m coming with you,” Fuji said. “I owe Kirihara.” He allowed his eyes to flash darkly, relishing in the way Sanada shuddered. “Mm, by the way, Sanada, how are your parents doing?” 

Sanada swallowed hard. “They are well, Fuji-san. Thank you for pulling strings.” 

Fuji nodded. “Get me to the hospital and alone with Kirihara, and I’ll consider your debt to me repaid.” Sanada’s parents were notorious thieves who Fuji had convinced his father to break out of an American prison and relocate to Tokyo a few years back. That was the debt in question. 

 

“Just that and we’re even, Fuji-san?” Sanada asked. 

“Yes,” Fuji said. “Just that.” 

Sanada’s eyes widened. “Consider it done,” he said. Then he glanced at Fuji’s knee. He frowned. “Are you sure you shouldn’t have that looked at?” 

Fuji scowled. “I’ll have it seen to after my business with Kirihara is finished,” he said. “Now lead the way.” 

Sanada, wisely, fell silent, and did as told. 

When they reached the hospital, Fuji found a private alcove and instructed Sanada to bring Kirihara to him. Sanada disappeared, leaving Fuji with just enough time to gather his wits before confronting Kirihara. While he typically left the down-and-dirty aspect of the underground world to others, he couldn’t afford to do that with Kirihara. Not when it meant keeping Ryoma safe. 

Ten minutes later, Sanada appeared with Kirihara in tow. 

Kirihara frowned as he say Fuji. “What are you doing here?” he asked, tone wary. 

Fuji fought his urge to smile and frowned instead. “I’m here to make sure you never lay your hands on another person again.” 

Kirihara stared at him. “Yeah, and how are you planning on doing that?” 

Fuji let a slow smile curl onto his lips. “Oh, that part is easy. Sanada, hold him still for me.” 

Sanada’s eyes widened, and he looked like he wanted to protest, but what Fuji was offering - freedom from the debt he owed - was way too good to pass up. So, with misgivings, he wrapped his arms around Kirihara’s torso to keep him from moving. 

Fuji nodded approval. “Now, keep his screams from being heard.” At Sanada’s flinch, his eyes narrowed. “Do not fail me in this, or you will know hell.” 

Sanada swallowed hard, dropping his eyes in acknowledgment. 

Fuji withdrew a surgical knife from his back pocket and held it in front of Kirihara’s eyes. “Since you like to break people so much,” he said. “And since you seem to pride yourself on your manhood.” He reached down and cut the material of Kirihara’s pants, watching with cold eyes as the fabric pooled around the man’s feet. “I will divest you of what matters most.” As he lay the knife alongside Kirihara’s scrotum, the man began to struggle in earnest. 

Sanada held him still, his face ashen, as Fuji sliced through the first of Kirihara’s balls. The pain was so intense that Kirihara couldn’t even choke out a scream before he passed out. Fuji grimly set to work on the other one, then stepped back and snapped a picture of the grisly sight in front of him. Sanada let Kirihara go, shaking with both the disgust at what he’d done and the terror that Fuji invoked in him. “You...why?” Sanada choked out. 

Fuji met Sanada’s eyes and there was no warmth in him as he answered, “Because it means keeping my lovers safe from people worse than me.” 

With that, he turned and walked away from the carnage he’d created. The chain of violence he’d tied around his neck was tight, but at least it was one he’d created for himself. And he knew, for the first time with absolutely certainty, that there was nothing he wouldn’t do, no monstrosity he wouldn’t commit, if it meant keeping Ryoma and Saeki safe. 

The End.


End file.
